The ephemeral scene’s visceral appeal
Left me palpitating in its wilting attire
It jilted me by its apparent refusal
To reappear when my heart desired
The shards of this incomplete dream
Broke through the canopy of the night
Whose jittery birds tittered sleeplessly
As I willed it whole with all my might
I wished to wilt again into the shadows
Away from the prodding glare of the half sun
But while burrowing back into the thickets
I was outed by a misbegotten wren
Possessed, the wren screeched and shrieked
As though the victim of a failing exorcism
Heavy or light, the moment of dawn
Broke, as did I, down into multiple aneurysms
~ Akanksha Gupta (poem) ~