Poetry: Amita Ray

Amita Ray
LOSS

My grief lies stranded on denuded space
heaviness of loss weighs down
a blow of infringement on tender green
predators plunder and wreck, fill in
 the lacuna of verdant identity
 with sky-scraping dreams
aligning eyesores and beaten shapes,
concrete flights scale zenith
awning gateway to sunshine, peeping
 through interstices of yesteryear
immigrant eyes seek balm to soothe. 
I deplore the loss—
Nature’s beauty gone for a toss.
wings homeless sing a dirge
echoing through manicured lawns
trimmed groves gossamer replicas 
like painted trinkets of embellishment 
amplify the perfect picture
of an  impoverished  vista.
***


PAPER BOATS

Pitter patter on window panes
alternate torrents battering down
occasional lull orchestrate
interlude of a monologue--
a splash here plays rock and roll
with a plop there
a constant drip drop synthesises
the perfect diurnal sonata.

Night churns a symphony saudade
 trailing into deep foggy tunnels
down eyelids memory clogged,
 a crescendo of croaks and chirps
 rebounds, disquieting piled  silence 
 a refrain muted long in wistfulness
 drifts me  indulgently to a realm  
in paper boats sailing upstream! 
***

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