Morning bloom.

Pic: Ankita Shreeram
The sky unflowers
From ink to light
Stretches lazily, and sneezes
Sending the clouds a f l u t t e r
They dot the sky
In different directions, patterns
Each seeking -
A different vagabond destiny.

The trees stay aloof
By now, immune
To the charms of the waking sky
Until one is teased by a passing bird
And giggles,
Sending whispers of cool wind
Into drowsy windows.

The wind sneaks
Into sleep-soft skin and puffy eyes,
Curled up bodies and slumbering blankets,
Until the whole world unflowers
To join hands with the morning sky.