I step out of my room
Fresh like a delicate bloom
Covered from top to toe
In the cotton and linen glow.
Its noon! The Sun has risen tall
And I resort to my parasol
Cursing the summer unfolding
Wiping away the sweat sighing.
As I slowly walk ahead
The Sun is blazing red and red
I hear the
concrete-mixer grind
Barefooted someone I find.
Dark, fragile, drenched in sweat
On the searing sand they are set.
I raise my canopy to peek out
And I see a fifty more burnout.
- -Kranthi
29/04/2017
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