For a vacation
Choosing a motion
When he took the road
Year long wide as if a pool
In which he dipped full,
By golden chips from the eastern sky
he got drenched,
And
The city came
Blessed cool
Like a little girl
With a big satchel
Disproportionate
Going to school,
her eyes were puffy
She was still sleepy...
As if lullaby in her eyes
And ears still played fresh,
And
Few old men
Reaching a shed
Sitting quiet
Facing the sky
Eastern wide
Gold from where dropped
Ascetic white...
And
A waste meadowy land
Yet to be encroached
By speedying buses
Horns and concrete broad
Looked awakened
Glistening
By the gold the same...
he looked at the horizontal dream
Going forever going
Comforting
As if life there she wrote
In her white
And green sure...
And the golden chips
Falling ethereal real
Right on lips
Nape
And cheeks
Traveling
In gold he got one morn dipped...
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