The hanging leaves, thick and green,
A patch of white-brown sky,
A glimpse of the road that turns ahead,
Is all I can see through my half open window...
The cuckoo sings from somewhere
All other nameless birds chirp incessantly
Something they say of a pleasant mood
Of wistful vibes that blend with the distant murmur of
The vehicles - slowly coming and gradually disappearing
Upon the great road in which all other smaller roads join
Sitting upon the couch
What lies beyond
That I can't see...
~The Half Open Window and Beyond
6.30am
8.6.2016
Bhubaneswar
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