As I drive past, I spy, in the sky
above the air force station of Bangalore,
two vrooming fighter jets,
three hedge hopping choppers,
five flitting dragon flies in mirth beyond words,
a swallow in love, with his lady love in tow;
fly in formations-
creations of own convenience,
(except for  the machines,
that strictly  follow rules)
against the big, round, magenta sun,
getting prepared
to set behind the mountains.