The welcome.

on

image

The clouds brushed my face
hungrily as I sat nose pressed
against the tiny window pane
of that plane bringing me to Goa.
The wisps of white leapt
and played, snapped at my heels
and merged with the greys: forming
un-forming…sunlight so blinding
like packs of wolves howling at the sky
like the stray dogs that run along
when someone they had loved once
and thought had forgotten….passes by.

image

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