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Clean slabs of wheat fields corner the horizon, the near, everywhere,red brick houses erupting over the untroubled leaves of silent trees,a sense of solitude, rootless solitude of chirping crickets engulfed me,mosquitoes sing their mela…
Somsubhra Banerjee
David Rudder
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Beautiful words, Somsubhra...From the soul :))
Top writer in Poetry. I am a diarist and write poetry to reflect my thoughts.
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