The tiny necklace at my back
The spasmodic rhythm of the divine
At my worst I call a light
It’s divided and careless
Fidgety spinning all around
The globe moves on
It’s an autumn child they called
Few hydrangeas lay at my desk
I call and back to tell the truth
The divine rhythm all around us
To a matchstick it hinges upon
As I knew the summer from autumn
Where lie little fishes in my bowl.
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Sayani Mukherjee
Picture Nick Victor
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