Pregnant clouds dance,
Their grey
cloaks
heavy with promise, a song of
redemption
on their wet lips
A drunk
paddy field
aches
longingly, arches itself
to melt-
embrace the
morning sun.
The girl
sighs, pours her falsetto
into the
pink cellphone,
her fingers
entwine the glossy green grass.
The silver
of her ear, throws the evening light,
a code, to
a faraway land.
The
wandering traveler- roams
Mucky
backpack- patchwork of places he has seen
leans on
his make-do walking stick- a spotted
branch of
an apple tree.
His weary
eyes
search for
stories that will kindle his heart
He looks at
me and smiles.
By-Anubha M
Heart's desires, almost there, waiting to be fulfilled. A certain certainty that they shall be.. Hope kindles
ReplyDeleteWell said!
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