Gray Welkin
By Niha Hasan
On a sunless day, a swarm of flying kites
knocked on the door
of my encumbered mind.
A song of love floating in the air
along with the clouds.
This song became a habit.
I got tangled up in it.
If I ever have to transmute this habit
I don’t know how I’ll be okay
but maybe
my life will move
upside down.
Maybe my morning will fade
like a Gray welkin.
Maybe my evening
will come down
like a sigh.
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