Pink evenings and low days

The bars are white soapy mouth

The sky is an unforgettable moment.

I take out my paper and mention my gratitude list-

I mention

        breath

onion

      Ketchup

broccoli 

    Sylvia

rosemary 

     Pauses  

The sun kisses my toes by the daytime

slushing,

suitcases and winter games.

I write too many sad poems, I know.

I write too many absent spirited lives.

 Loneliness spews black paint through my crevices.

I bloom too.

I bloom at darker, 

soft places

like – a sniff of a mountain or vapourizing lakes.

I must return to my kitchen now-

peel potatoes  and count the peanuts

Pink sky-

floral saturn rings of now and before.

I must return now, quickly.

Published by

my valiant soul

A dreamer and a believer for the upliftment of women rights. A published poet, author, writer. Believes in dancing and cooking amazing food for hungry souls at times. Loves to write and write till the moon is satisfied. My writings can be found at Visual Verse, Indian Periodical, Sick Lit mag, Duane's Poetree, Thistle magazine, among various others. Curator of Olive Skins.

8 thoughts on “Pink evenings and low days”

  1. Your poem is fantastic Devika ! Floating and hovering on different, difficult feelings oscillating between present and past and crashing down to reality πŸ‘πŸ‘πŸ‘πŸ€πŸŒΉ

    Liked by 1 person

  2. These lines were so visually crafted, Devika. I could see the immediacy mentioned here, the potatoes, and everything else. A great way to end the poem.

    “I must return to my kitchen now-

    peel potatoes and count the peanuts

    Pink sky-

    floral saturn rings of now and before.

    I must return now, quickly.”

    Liked by 1 person

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