Blue

Time has become too old

Even for history

Here -                          Dust it off

                                    From window pains

                                    Polished planets

                                    Have played

                                    Chinese Checkers

                                    For too long!

From an empty

Glass square

A rusted season

Has fallen on

The wrinkled

Log hours

With bullets

for fruits

and shelter

in dead leaves!

                        Climb! Climb!

                        Up! Up and up!

                        Pluck the rainbow

                        Even though

It is half of a circle…

Open its Blue

Carefully

For your

Sky is Lost

Find it in the long winter sleeves

Of your pherans

…ice will soon cover you

    The red explosions

    Will turn you

Into

    news-bleached

    Bricks.

 Published in Contemporary Literary Review India