In the summers of May
a troop of grey sparrows
used to flow into our lane
as an escaped cloud of monsoon
roosted on the neem tree
and pollinated the music they
brought from different worlds.
When someone shooed them
they all rose into sky
as a single tide with million chirps
and flew to neighbour's compound wall
and then to the current pole
sopping the world with music.
Elders chopped the neem tree
as the sparrows were causing
ripples in their still lives.
Sparrows didn't return the next summer
the silence of May remained dry
and some unconventional rains
withered the street.
*14-07-2012
a troop of grey sparrows
used to flow into our lane
as an escaped cloud of monsoon
roosted on the neem tree
and pollinated the music they
brought from different worlds.
When someone shooed them
they all rose into sky
as a single tide with million chirps
and flew to neighbour's compound wall
and then to the current pole
sopping the world with music.
Elders chopped the neem tree
as the sparrows were causing
ripples in their still lives.
Sparrows didn't return the next summer
the silence of May remained dry
and some unconventional rains
withered the street.
*14-07-2012
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