Orange, yellow, brown
Covering the dull gravel ground
Parched so bad
Lifeless
Yet beautiful
Painting the canvas of dreariness
The world
They have fallen
Yet strong enough
To make someone's heart
Scream with joyness
Cheer up an empty soul.
They'll crunch weakly
When black boots step on them;
The'll rustle along with the breeze
When the heartless wind pick up;
But why...
Did they fall?
Did they give up?
"They're dead leaves child"
Said her mom
Bending closer to her ear
A faint smile painted
The latter's parted lips
Agaped due to the beauty
Of the painted canvas
Right beneath her...
"Mom...I love them"
She mumbled
Letting her small feet step away
From the heavenly canvas of
Dead leaves....

swimmer’s nostalgia. grain of salt.

the infant
is clumsy
but no one
knows

Held my hand
In the midst
Of chaos
And recited
His confessions
Of loneliness

I never understood
The reason
Behind his tremor
I bet
His body
Was trying
To escape