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
