With violets and purples and pinks and reds
The flowers play holi above our heads
The grate of traffic, the thwack of tennis balls
Someone singing, discordant bird calls
Tall bamboo curtains like prophets of doom
Suddenly among the maddening bloom
Dodging dog poo, watching the sky
Eyeing that bit of muscular white thigh
In future years all this will bring
Home to me this psychedelic spring
But for this morning, we three
Fill our senses and enjoy the company
Written By Pritha Choudhuri
1 comment:
I envy you all in bangalore..It must be divine there around this time!
loved the poem. Will definitely scribble my version of spring in dusty Delhi
Post a Comment