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  Aug 2020 Aparna
Faron Hymn Yang
ink is the same color
as a certain canvas

when you look hard enough
you can almost see
the stars sprinkled in there
  Aug 2020 Aparna
r
I found myself lost and alone
struggling to feel free
but as time moved along
I knew I could be a better me.
  Aug 2020 Aparna
vienna bombardieri
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dIoleidZAiQ

Miles away from home where the sun is on fire with yesterdays dreams
an Indian sari gown of silk and bead arrives  bending the wind to its  will
warm rain and saffron tinted skies caress gold eyelids and irises of old
Miles away from home the strings of my guitar recall Indian streams
and warm walks on the beach. A faint song  clings to her ghostly figure
like a lyrical refrain, while a fading light begins to lose its shine ....
August smiles still simmer on my mind ,  I was a young man in love  
with a Princess who cradled my heart to the rocking motion of the moon;
She took me to Saffron Hill, then flowered me with poetry, oh what a thrill
to be so close to the sun and not to burn from the throws of her quill ...
Miles away from home I felt the power of her light and then she was gone,
like the monsoon rains of India, she disappeared in September leaving me
to strum my sitar in a Cincinnati bar, watching neon lights light up,  
I told it to old Fred , but he just smiled at me and handed me
a saving thread , "Son,  you'll always have your memories"      
and then, he handed me another Sangria, the color of her swiveling dress

August 3, 2020
  Aug 2020 Aparna
Lane O
oh moon, hanging high
glowing majestic, night sky
wax and wane, firefly
another moon haiku :)
  Aug 2020 Aparna
Eli
𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐞𝐧𝐭 //
  𝐭𝐫𝐮𝐝𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐜𝐫𝐨𝐬𝐬 𝐟𝐢𝐞𝐥𝐝𝐬
𝐩𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬
  𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐦𝐨𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝
𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬
  𝐠𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐬
𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬

𝐢 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐝 𝐬𝐡𝐞'𝐝 𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮.


~ eli.
  Aug 2020 Aparna
FluorescentShadow
Mistily drifting
Through lazily flowing
Streams.

Morning mountains
Wave a warm welcome,
Hiding the torturous glare
Of the oppressive morning sun.

These white mountain mornings
Surely are the best.
Naming poems is hard, but I really don’t know what’s happening to what because they’re all “Untitled”

I’m remembering when I climbed mt. Washington a year ago. I’m actually trying to climb all 48 4k footers in NH, then I’m going to go back to Washington and do the hardest trail (i did the second hardest last year)
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