I look out of the window
To a bleak grey wall
Dark iron grilled windows
And fluttering fabrics in them
I look up to a bleak pastel sky
Cloudless, just plain
And there's no magnificent eagles or
Heartwarming Sparrows in there
It's just crows and pigeons flying about
And I hate the bars before my window
It's trapping but safe
You know there's this tree beyond
the sliding door
You can see only you're sitting on the window sill
I don't know which one it is
But it sheds its leaves in autumn
And they lay crumbling in a beautiful death
On the dulling clay tiles of the motor room roof
But these leaves are green during December
And they are a plain shape
And its branches are slim and a faded brown and youthful but unhealthy
But it's beautiful and tranquil
The leaves, they sometimes dance to wind
And the squirrels, they sometimes scurry up the branches
And the branches, they lie bare and yet perfectly complete in beautiful barrenness
As October begins
And I'm waiting to see the leaves again they are a bright green in July,
glittering In a sheen of fresh rain water and soaked in the earthly fragrances carried in the monsoon winds
This tree is spectacular
Sometimes there's a yellow saree hanging in the opposite window
I like how the sheer chiffon flirts with the zephyr
And some thimes a white pigeon flies by
But it's rare,
I get a little thrilled Everytime I spot it
But the blank wall is bleak
The clothesline in every window is unaesthetic and I don't wanna watch it anymore
The bars in the window don't let me see clearly
And I feel trapped despite the entire wall being a cavity framed in a huge modern french window
I'm warm and safe
I don't feel I'm home
YOU ARE READING
Dear Diary
Poetry"I was so busy living in thoughts that when life was actually happening it struck so odd" This is a series of miscellaneous poem about nature, adventure, love, friendship, self identity, memories, hope, road trips and still more :)! P.S : do commen...
