Sights
Where do you hinge your soul?
Is it in the memories of bright
sky caught in latticed branches
Green etching the blue, all the
delight of colours
Or is it frolicking waves and crinkling
fronds
Sights of scooping pelagic birds
Frenzied ghost crabs among ruckus
of crow
Or is it kept safe in quieter
recess of time
While you negotiate noisy traffic among
careless drivers
Liberate it to pause passing skein
into the setting sun
Take it as if it is the last
breath
#WorldMigratoryBirdDay
