Stuck Up

 

 

You refuse

to lie down, underneath the banyan tree

its flat leaves rustling

giggling- at the wind.

 

You say you wouldn’t want

to get the wandering ants,

in your hair

nor the poking grass

all over your pants

 

So, you hover overhead

a baby cloud-

eating up my sun.

By-Anubha M

P.C- Anubha M