another blow in the chest

Another blow in the chest ……. by Smita

I woke up in 2021…They talked about the year’s demise. The cadaverous yesteryear, perchance, is still lurking in the venomous, moth-eaten chronicles. Putrifying, wafting off an exceptional noisome smell. Once again the year begins with a pound in the chest, completely knocking you down. Standing at the cul-de-sac my eyes glazed over the sable night. Hopefully, it ends differently.

Beneath the graceful curve of the sky, where I tossed a handful of seeds, where blissful clumps of perennials pregnant with plump fruits with copious creepers bursting at the seam bestride the trees in the manner of a leafy colossus. They allure vociferous macaw and indigenous chirpy flinches with their tails dipped in cherry, preening themselves with absurd indifference. Here ladybugs and ants scurry along the callow shoots and burgeoning foliage like colonel blimp. The soft singsong of the leaves awakens a restful ache to lose yourself in the heartening…

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