We walk a long way,
crawl in a queue, and then,
comes the food ration.
In a desert of debris all ash
remains unclaimed except
a dream that you and I eat
a peaceful peach, and we
lounge in one of lawns
that come with a cottage
painted white. Around us
grows the garden of silence.
We can afford silence
in our dreams.
One dragonfly settles
on an obscure shape
that could have been a building,
plane or a bomb in another time.
The creature’s wings birth
four quivering rainbows.
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Kushal Poddar
Picture Nick Victor
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