the firefly
notification light
on my phone
the pool of birds
alarm tone.
I think I sit in awe
of paper because
I cannot stand
in awe of trees.
too much highway
car chase pew-pew
red green blue
to face the miles
of root packed in
cubic inch of earth
the light-years long
trains of just born aphids
the galaxy of barnacles
yes-missing at roll-call waves.
all flying things are birds.
all green I push into
the names I know.
but the firefly happens
when I find pointless
memes from friends
like in the good old
stopping by on the pretence
of borrowing something
one never had.
the pixel shape
of time floating
in the AC air
where I boat-cup
my face with hands
breathe deep & exhale
fissuring fingers
I find sleep
from a far place
my planet
must look like
a curved smart-phone
in space.
~Ajay
30/4/2020
YOU ARE READING
bliss station ~ poetry
Poetry~ where is your bliss station / you have to try to find it ~
