I place myself
on the palanquin
of thoughts
over the shoulders
of solitude each day
taking me through
the silent woods
across the jingling spring
emerging from its heart
to the faraway grasslands
secluded from
the hustling spaces
towards the sky
of the autumn clouds
then to the palely lit crescent
where I drop in dismay
gazing the besieged planet
blazing in war
its bleeding boundaries
pleading for a salve –
the scenes unfold
like the hues splattered
against the blue
as I watch in despise
this harrowing view.
© Nazneen Kachwala
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