Saturday, 25 March 2023

The free flight

 

 


 

After hours of holding

The glass kissed string

The control on flight

That would otherwise be astray

Into the free blowing breeze

And move beyond our grip

Till we would call it a lost kite

Only to camouflage our pettiness

In fact we would be lost

In a nondescript nook of terrace

Amidst an overcrowded tract

While the fanciful sheet would fly

Into the infinite expanse of sky

Upto a zenith that would dissolve sight

With our limitations of faculty

We would define it as a lost kite.

 

Delhi

00 58 hrs

2053

26.3.23

 

 

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