Hope Looks Bright - Poem by Sanjukta Nag
Sun smoothed the first chilled air
With green hands made of leaves
To straighten tilted rays of morrow.
You have won the honey blue of sky
And used it to clean my dusty porch
Filled with yesterday's fallen sorrow.
Illumination isn't illusion any more
Happiness has washed its little feet
For dancing with songs of sparrow.
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