Fading

Few years ago, I was reading Andrea Levy's The Long Song while visiting one of my closest friends at his quaint bungalow in Alibaug. The piece de resistance of his garden was the fragrant tree laden with pale waxy champa flowers. I picked up few freshly fallen dew moistened flowers from the lawn and placed them in the book only to find them today. To find them so they could inspire a poem.

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