Sunday 15 August 2021

Taranpreet Kaur, Poetry 2021 Magazine


Smothering (the) Bogeys 

The hot water trickles down 

like an elixir on my frail form. 

After removing my old mulch, 

I no longer feel forlorn. 

The Bell Jar hovers a few inches 

above my head. 

It may again suffocate me, 

I carefully tread. 

Like a young free maiden, 

I run across the meadows. 

Inhaling the sweet scents of 

cherry blossoms and honey dews, 

leaving behind the shadows. 

I open my eyes and embrace 

the utopian view. 

Moments of bliss are serene 

but there are only a few. 

The warmth of my tresses  

caresses me. 

Evanescing my thoughts, 

just leave me be.

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