The dresses hang out in the garden.
Intermittent showers make them wet.
Left them as they are damp.
The rain pours non stop.
I watch them from my courtyard,
water drips from them.
Fearing heavy down pour I collect them.
Dry them in the closed veranda.
I lock my backyard to find the Sun shining.
My efforts turn vain.
Does it happen to me alone?
I deliberate.
Meenas Poems 