we're here

we're here

slowly making home.

preluding our story
between its generous breadth
and on waiting walls.

it's been a week
and already our life's a musical
with birds songs rendered from dawn to dusk,
pigeons cooing and shedding feathers in our balcony
and sweeping hillocks outside our windows.

there's also so much that isn't
but we're learning to adapt,
form new rhythms,
seek solace from within and the open skies.

chaitra has come, bringing spring.
thus, a new year begins.

. . .

friday, nightfall
the eighth

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let my thoughts come to you
when I am gone
like the afterglow of sunset
at the margin of starry silence
- rabindranath tagore -