The Poet Community

Rubble | A Poem by Ananya S. Guha

Hollowed hollows
in mackintoshes
you cry out for summer rains
and blues are yours
as the rains suddenly abate
swirling around hills, peacocks, the wind in hauteur
my first mackintosh lies in an old cupboard where the monsoon
flies gathered in smoke
and rubble of dirt.



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