It Rains Somewhere….

Sky reminisces. Our bygone pillow fight
reoccurs out of blue. The flight
of the clouds’ feathers, northbound,
jets in time-lapse over my head.

The excitement of the game,
guilt and shame, panting, I feel again.
I murmur, “Forgiveness, I beg,
for this mess.” My mother
opens up like a door. I see the sky
arround her heart. She has something
more pressing in her mind, and so she
doesn’t react. I cannot remember
my playmate. It is the sky, always,
that blinds me as I scatter in her bosom.

Kushal Poddar
Photo Nick Victor