the drizzle sent me scurrying
back to the hole I call öffice
it would not do, you see
to walk in the rain
beneath the canopy
of red cotton and kachnar trees
and return with rain drops
dancing on my eye lashes
it would not do to have
a song in the heart
that can't be silenced
we are a sombre lot
we run the nation
it matters little
that most of it
is a delusion
(priya)
5.11.2015
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