And clouds hang low as though mourning
Rays peep a bit disappointingly
And it is time for the first sip
With gossip exchanges done leisurely .
Crows, sparrows, black , brown and grey...
From their night rests in some far away tree
For crumbs and left overs thrown intermittently.
And stir the mild morn with their cajolings
They tell us the world is coming in
To give updates about the latest happenings.
It is time to wish haziness adieu
To wander along with the swell
Of crowds and kin out to splay
Life and labour into their work and play.
By: Meera Panigrahi