birds fly in flocks, large-n-big, describing
circles in the vault, now fully visible!
Alone, bored, she watches the birds
free, reclaiming the earth and sky. Rivers
are pure, streets, quiet. Song of the koel, heard
first time.
Late one afternoon, April bright, the kid wishes for wings
and surprisingly, gets the fresh ones, to soar in the sky
and daily, afterwards, flies out, on tiny wings,
over the cleaner mega city of towers;
the sweet flights in
the heavens, sheer delight, despite
curfew and the ongoing lockdown!
388