Aneek Chatterjee writes

Twenty Years

In November you don’t get
so much of early morning mist
in this part of the world
I was walking surreal 
in that November
and suddenly chanced upon 
two tiny flowers
smiling at each other
inside a left-alone bush

They drew me near 
my sister woke up twenty years
after she was laid to rest;
and smiled at me,
in a misty morning
I smiled back

Her dress was yellow,
I was in white 
that November  

Ready to Blossom in the Morning -- Yayoi Kusama