Thursday, February 11, 2016

A Song 18



At Marine Drive
in Arabian Sea,
Kabir and Tuka
clothed in flowers,
draped in hand-written Valentines,
tending to citizens smudged  
by Heavenly chirpy chimes,
tacked their ears to celestial
lines of pianos in blue skylines,
sounding like raagas and alaps
in Vaikunt times.
Life got living.  

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