Steel grey skies set behind the red sun
dipped with russet rimmed lines,
spelled with the darkest clouds;
are people sitting by their windows, curled,
dawned in a sensation of grimaced hope
that sits silently on their calm—
in the event of a welcomed rain,
in the event of an unarmed gale;
offering the atmosphere to compel
compassion over hot beverages
along with a light heart-ed conversation,
whilst people await its arrival;
over days, dispatched to return
over days, slept in triumph
over days, dispelled nostalgically—
causing ebullience sought in droplets
that are freshly planted on a soil inhabited,
that carries fresh smell of mother earth
in cakes of mud that are left imprinted;
murky water splashed by vehicles wheeled
on black tarmac roads half wet,
washing away dust & stones;
finding trees that shine over zealously
in a watered glaze coated partially
on its roots and stems,
quelling nature to carry it in a semblance
of spilled watercolors on an easel,
that is left half-painted by an artist
drawn invariably to subsume
colors of a season,
much dreaded and loved.- Shweta Kher


  1. akshita bansal · November 27, 2020

    A lovellyyy piece 🙂🧡

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Shweta Kher · November 29, 2020

    Thank you!


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