An Edition of ‘Ease’
She dove in – a stream of Sunlight –
through the open window.
A dance with the curtains,
a sweep across the room.
Slowly, she lazed over my crumpled
bed sheet, like a drowsy cat,
ruffling the blue and yellow flowers on it.
(The same flowers that
a bee once thought were real
and sucked at for a whole 38 seconds,
until it perceived the betrayal
and left out the window.)
By evening, her carrot-stick rays,
long and thin and soft as butter,
cluttered onto the floor. She left
in a whisper, and then it was just me,
my books, and the sentience
of a day well spent.
By Dhruvi Modi
Dhruvi Modi is 20, and a student at Sophia College for Women. She has loved reading and writing since she can remember, and is an avid daydreamer. She loves walking, being by herself, and has been caught talking to herself more often than she would ever admit.
Featured Image by Julia Ord.
