"Blueberries"

Blueberries

I throw the throbbing night

Off my body, redolent

With thoughts of our wasted love.

Dawn creeps cautiously in my room

Painting the corners of my mind

With a strange wistfulness.

I take my childhood by her hand

And go for a walk.

She often hides in dark, empty rooms,

Cowers under moth-ridden mattresses.

She traipses ahead gleefully today,

Clad in polka-dotted brightness,

White flowers in her hair,

She beckons me to walk barefoot

In the rain-filled grass

Of my neighbour’s orchard.

She scoops fallen flowers,

Howls in abandoned laughter,

That echo amidst the blueberry trees.

I look for signs of furtive lives,

Out, claiming their day.

She flicks blades of rain

And dares me to do the same.

I look at her in protective bafflement.

Hunt for germs, and creatures instead

Lurking in secret passages

Burrowed deep in the substrate.

She taps my face with warm fingers

And says- Look, let’s go pick blueberries

And eat them raw,

Spoiled in dirt and pungencies,

Sour juices oozing in our mouths,

And smile with purple teeth.

Then strew the piths all over,

And wait for them to grow.

Perhaps you will find me again,

Picking blueberries, soon.

Published in Youth: The Disciple of Dreams, published by Mewadev Granth Academy, pp 34-35, June 2023, ISBN: 978-81-963240-2-5.