Missing Cravat

When flurries in the gloomy sky I am still awake and inquisitive? Your pinkish-mauve silky scarf Blown in the wind and safely landed At my backyard. But how do I know your whereabouts To hand over if it's not a keepsake Are you faraway or close by? I have no proper sleep these days Till I get your prompt response And please do not cremate my innocent hopes in your vast burial grounds *before the music ends? *for Sandra Fowler! [ I listen your precious poems in the CD where Ihab Badrun reads in his deep voice; 'A hymn to Frost' (for my grandfather who started work in the coal mines of West Virginia when he's twelve years old,) I feel a teardropp in my eye? ] [I had the story, bit by bit, from various people, and, as generally happens in such cases each time it was a different story.] Quoted from Edith Wharton's lovely novel 'Ethan Frome' Ethan Frome a heartfelt humanity that can still resonate across the years to the reader of today. nimal dunuhinga