When the growing grey of night
Grates into the pink of the evening
The wind softly blows her breath
To puff up the silvery dreams in sky
An evening star winks at the constant eye
The flock flaps back to the cosy strands
With a saved morsel for the sapling
The drops get annointed for the tide
The myriad hues of dusk softly merge
Into the viscous womb of a tarry night
The larva of another glittering dawn.
Rishikesh
9.1.25
07.43 hrs
2185
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