HUDSON'S GRAVE

Clouds had golden linings

The day I had met Hudson...

I can remember clearly

The sad note of his piano

Dunked in his lonesome emotions...

He would be sitting alone

Alone...on a gothic chair

The piano beyond his face...

.

.

I do not know

How his voice was like...

But yes! The notes were sweeter

Than the song of cuckoo

And livelier than the brook...

Yet wet in silent tears

Of some unknown memories...may be

Memories of broken promises...

Burnt desires...and pain.

No friends he had

For fifty years

He had maintained silence...

.

.

Sun was hiding down the hill

And birds were returning to their nests

The dusk I had seen Hudson...

Sleeping peacefully

An empty cigarettes case

And a small note

'ROSE DAY. RETURN SOON'

Dated fifty years back...

.

.

Now...his piano notes...my ears do not hear...

And a stone in the church graveyard reads

'R. HUDSON-Silence is a great healer.'