Night sheds to day
that sheds to morning again.
 
No November can nod at incoming rain. 
That is just a lot of clouds clashing
About who will reach earth first.
 
Rooting beneath is a butterfly,
feeding on great marigolds
There is so much dance.
                               We forget footsteps of air in the sky.
 
The wind freely associates a memory to November.
 
When fire dances on traffic signals, I see wait.
November’s NoAmber collection adds
one more memory: dissolves biscuits and sips her tea.
 
There is casualness in the way we approach weather.
A street bathes in wind,
and that of all –
has just stopped the sea from flying away.
 
(Inspired from Kaveh Akbar’s poem My Kingdom for a Murmur of Fanfare)
 
Shreyasi Sharma is a postgraduate in Literary Art Creative Writing from Ambedkar University Delhi