By Malkeet Kaur
The world is becoming tinier,
The walls closing in.
The stuffy rooms seem overcrowded with two, three or four
And outside lies a vast faceless digital cosmos.
The air is brimming with unknown, minuscule monsters
Ready to pounce on the sense of Kleenex security of within.
I count the shadows on the closed window panes
I can see from my window,
The mind struggling with imagination
Playing one thousand one stories of Arabian nights.
The ordinary family drama behind
Those glass curtains seems so inane.
I peep at the empty streets
Through iron bars like a caged bird.
Yesterday there were some stray dogs,
Flinching away from the unfamiliar masks over familiar smells.
Today the road lies silent, unmoving, waiting.
And then I see that blue butterfly again.
It was there yesterday
And before that,
Hovering over blossom less tree nearby.
Maybe we will survive the monsters this year-
The crowd in the rooms.
Maybe the spring is in the air.
Malkeet Kaur resides in Mumbai, India and works as a teacher. She loves writing poems and many of her poems have got published in the online journals.