A flock faintly visible, the breeze just so loud

Flew me back to when my delicate fingers

Ever so gently held a purple crayon, as I

Inked my canvas vivid, as a tribute to the sky

I trembled as I saw the flock disappear

 as if it never existed, Just like the wounds

from the teacher’s ruler, for I had sinned

I painted the sky different from what I was told

I smile now but back then, teared were my eyes

For I was called insane, as my canvas spoke of

Red trees, purple skies and my beloved

Who’s long tresses were adorned by white lilies

The breeze halted and so did my little rendezvous with the past,

much had gone by

and yet barely anything changed, instead of

whispers, now insane was carved in black on my wall.

I leaned to see below, couldn’t help but smile

For the red maple glistened as the fresh dew

mimicked the purple sky, and there sat my beloved,

plucking white lilies to adorn her lengthy tresses.

Anshika Bhatnagar

Student

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