Flamingo leaves fly past
my window pane on
an autumn evening,
wrapping the ground
with sheaths of pink bedsheets
whilst I wait for my own words
to fall from the tree rooted within
my heart, mirroring the season’s
frame of mind.

Across my window, on the other
side, a teenaged girl sketches
puddles from the fingers of her feet,
dreaming, drifting, shifting to a planet
that she alone knows,
in oblivion the orbiting echoes
of her mother’s calls fading.

And across me on the right side,
definitely not left,
an enthrallingly fascinated
boy, around twelve or so,
smiles from his dancing eyes,
capturing a somersaulting spider
from the gossamer glasses
of an immaculate window
called ‘autism.’

Brindha Vinodh

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About Brindha Vinodh

I am a postgraduate in Econometrics but a writer within. I have contributed to several anthologies and been published on many e-zines, journals, OPAS, etc. and a featured poet at an international publication house. My roseate sonnet was selected as one of the best poems of 2020 by the same group-InnerChildPress international.

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