A hasty retreat, a soul I know
With you always
An old letter making sense,
The fire birds
Clutching the clouds
Plunge into twilight.
The evening slips on the
Iron grill, teakwood frame,
The long line of chairs,
Alone, together
Listen to radio song.
Unsullied the night sky,
Like sails on mast
So earnest, so playful,
The sanitised moon wiping eyes.
Even in dream,
I read deep sea in your eyes
Falsity in your tone yet
Lips open for more.
………………………
beautifully expressed it 🙂
Suffused by the pervasive hint of Film Noir and marked by the presence of a femme fatale.
Lovely description and metaphors, Gopal.
Thanks Sarala, Louis and Rahul for your wonderful comments.