The dusk falls gently on the lap of the earth.

As if,

She wears vermilion in the parting of her hair,

Singing the song of longing,

Writing the poetry for her beloved,

who never arrived at her door.

(This post is a part of BlogchatterA2Z Challenge 2026)

(This poem is part of my A to Z poetry series titled, ‘EarthSong.’ Read the other poems here.)