Silhouettes turn green

Eyes opened
It was dark

An hour later
The Azaan
echoed past

The crow peasant,
the crows and the
Slowly overtook
the insect

The Church bell
sounded loud and clear
concluding in calls
of the indian tree pie

In the balcony
I sit
Obsessing with
colours of the sky

Mosquitoes circle
above my head
If they were flies
We would say
I am dead

This dawn
You woke me up
To watch my breath
Like mantras
you resound
even in bed

Now what is new
You mind of
Many ways

As silhouettes slowly turn green to become silhouettes yet again

3 Comment

    1. Thank You

  1. kangan badhwar says: Reply

    Your lines are strewn like pebbles that describe their weather-beaten state!!!

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