Conflict

In the month of May In the scorching heat I went to the shade of a tree With a hope to you I would meet Wind was blowing hot It hurt me on my face I waited under a tree for long Hoping to hear rustle of your dress Sound of leaves being Blown away filled the air With skin burning and itching To meet you once I liked to be there I saw the sun slipping Down slowly to the west I could not hear her footsteps Perspiring thick I needed some rest Evening crept in slowly Shadows became long A tear welled up in my eye as I realized to me you did not belong @ Anil Kumar Panda 10/12/2015