Sayani Mukherjee

Hide and Seek 

My moon has faced up. 
Gone are the days of sledge sleep Snow
Of winter's river bed, dug and caved 
upon the mighty vast
Of poplar heights. 
There little beads of seed flowers
play Hide and seek
Over the hill berry row 
In the dark dusty chimney doors. 

Three summers have rushed out
And I come back-
To a valley sponged with flying kites
The lake there blue and shivery 
With smallest touch 
And transparent cello whines 
from dark underneath. 

Knitted and stretched among woollen shades
The trails that jingle for more warmth
The fishermen there makes a circle
And offer sacrifices
For the star shaped maiden face
Who ensnared my vision
With a giant net of coloured stones
And paper bag boats. 

Far away, tip top beats 
of cascade mountains
Honk my tunnel vision
This is a path I chose
Of clovers and germanium bloom
And Lullabies of mother's dream. 

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