Vikramaditya Maity


Thought I’d sit by you and dream a while
Of horizons that stretch many a mile
Of dusty feet, two free souls
Walking, through totem poles, to the earth’s poles
Silvery skies that look down on sands
Sands still fresh with dreams, and hopes
Burdened by stones
Stones that climb on top of one another
Towards the sky

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