Last evening.

The waning moon looked

bright amongst...

the ash gray monsoon sky,

and a few tiny stars.


The scent of the breeze...
carried ashore,
the dreams of the sea;
and I felt myself caught
in a web of rapture.


But as the night wore on,
the tide ebbed;
everything that was actual,
flung me to reality.


On their own accord,
the moon, stars, scent,
lost their charm;
all of my dreams were gone.


10th June 2020



Geeta Chhabra


(From Lockdown Collection)

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