In A Hoop Poem by Srutimala Duara

Through the window
I looked at the rectangular world
The tree stood, making the grey skies a dappled green
A little yellow bird sat restlessly on a sloping branch
I walked to the window to have a binocular view
It dived into the green.
I am no ornithologist;
But I love birds
And, it's a recent discovery
Like so many realisations that are new.

He called me a bird
A sweet bird that came hopping to his life
And my heart wet with drizzled love
Entered the hoop
And, called out the cuckoo's strain
Till I realised I am a clipped-winged bird
Hopping in a hoop
Hoping.

The little yellow bird hopping on the branch
Is not in any hoop
Free of desires it doesn't hope
Can it lighten my grey skies with its yellow?
In a hoop I hope...