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

 

Share This