A peach sky. Art by Sangeeta Suneja
The old age home is not a place, where dreams are gone,
The peach sky and a blue pond,
Is the dusk of each past dawn,
At the edge of this blue pond,
Turns a peach shade from a bright faun,
Throwing stones, watching ripples,
Forming rings, till they are gone,
Speaking silence of the grass,
Staring, at the sky, on and on,
Trees too, preach and propound,
Theories and stories,
Those, lost and found,
Of the rare lovers,
Seen and braved,
At the edge of this green patch,
Holding, the peach sky and the blue pond,
By some of us, old songs,
Holding the sticks and umbrellas,
Talking to these two, fellows,
Since so many light years,
Sitting at those worn benches, near,
Playing cards, or throwing stones,
In the blue pond, keeping it alive and dear,
We talk to these two, every dusk and dawn,
Checking the colour of the sky, every hour,
Well! This is what we are here for,
The old age home too has to keep
the hearth warm!!
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