Rain out of season,
uncomfortably blue;
At the brink of spring,
where flowers must bloom;

Where leaves hatched newly,
shivered in the chill;
Between the rains,
and winter frills;

I watched through my window,
these wondrous clouds,
blanket my world,
in wondrous shroud;

And within the chaos,
of this uncharacteristic truce,
I could see clearly, a world,
as calm as a noose;

This windy, rainy evening.

By: Viraj Belgaonkar