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Writer's pictureParag Chitale

My periscope: A ballad for the better times


Now that the days are stuffy and short

a lot colder feels my heart

I try and make myself look up

to find a ray of hope


Some pollen lost in the air

shines bright like stars in there

the delusion of grandeur, I wish,

a mirage that would help me cope


This room sees me pacing the wall

checking if it's actually gotten small

All I get is what i already know

the space beyond my scope.


Our cold distant dry phase of just being,

when will this end? I try to search, without seeing

and the boundless emotions flow,

the tears in my eyes, a tightrope.


I count our warm embraces missed

and all those hugs left unkissed

breathless, I hold myself from slipping

because that's a familiar slope


Then my rusty musky old cabinet

stops the charade of being inanimate

She opens up her arms and out goes

a loverly woolen envelope


with deep longing for the clear blue skies

in my heart, and well, my puffy eyes

I hold it close to my chest and right away,

I recap our summer bioscope


That fluffy softness like moonlight

has the smell that just feels right

I curl up with your sweater and now

I can, finally, breathe through the periscope

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