All the time that day in June
I shivered
A deep foreboding in my guts
Made my breast-tips quiver
(As though the long-weaned child
Thirsted again for a flow of milk)
And I felt exhausted by the long walk to the kitchen
(As though after running leagues)
Books bored me
And speech annoyed
And I wondered if perhaps I had caught something...
Yet nothing happened
And I dreamt in the night of long travels.
When I woke up the sky was heavy
And then it rained.
-गौरी देशपांडे
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