krutarth

Under A Tree

I lie on;

the patterning grass,

the blinding light,

falling on my squirming eyes,

grateful to be alive;

as I listen to;

the koel\'s dying chime.

 

The light dances;

on my body,

like spots on a feral cat,

as the branches;

swoop,

and the leaves;

rustle,

in the summer breeze.