Three Poems by Kamakshi Lekshmanan

seem to sweep the air
fall has done a fine job. wither.
the scent of autumn blanket- the only remains.
squirrels meddle and munch their breakfast,
holding the grass firmly on their fore.
quickly the grasses get chewed, swallowed.
I can hear the gallop of grass through their throat.
because it is. a kind of quiet. inside the womb, sorts.
hares accompany the squirrels, in harmony.
a rush of coal tits perch on the coffee brown twigs.
behind a smoky backdrop.

a pensive noon
about the views
many and many
from the stationary sky
to the passing clouds
mimicking a rail
or the straight, still, sober
bushes, meditating
or the solo coot
looting the pond
while the mallards go absent
a vacuum, or a cave
where I birth my words
sing them to papers

Fading Autumn
pencil on paper
listened to each other
until the clouds began
to grow dense
covering the grey
beneath the gloomy sky
play a flock of pigeons
----- a distracted me
wrap my arms
to the crispy cold
leaving the autumn
------ in bits of frost

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