The four plastic sunflowers in my bedroom-The way they swayed in the ceiling fan’s airWere the functional-year-long-April for me.Fallen twigs of meditating winterAnd the deadwood sanity of their roughness;The begging deserts of the patient summerAnd the coarseness of their ravaged mirages;The thin tune of the nostalgic autumnAnd the restlessness of their alcoholic breezes-Were never like fresh seasonal fruits to meFor I had the functional-year-long-April in my bedroom:Those four plastic sunflowers.Not long, my wedding and divorce-Both in their infancyEnded the perpetual April in my roomBy demanding those yellow sunflowersIn the package of reparation.It was four seasons ago and the spring of AprilNow seems to be a creepy plastic serpentIrresistibly insidious in its illusory crueltyas my new girl friend from the same cityTalked of bringing new plastic flowers in my room._____Sonnet Mondal writes from Kolkata and is the founder of The Enchanting Verses Literary Review. He has authored eight books of poetry and has recently been invited to deliver talks at the XII International Poetry Festival of Granada, Nicaragua, in 2016. His works works have appeared in The Mcneese Review, Sheepshead Review, Common Ground Review, The Penguin Review , Clackamas Literary Review, Two Thirds North and Sanskrit Magazine. His poetry has been translated into Hindi, Italian, Slovenian, Chinese, Turkish, Macedonian, Bengali and Arabic. Visit him at www.sonnetmondal.com.