This Very Sky

A clear blue sky
But at the edges, silently creeping onwards
Are tiny tendrils of cotton clouds
Threatening to conquer
But against them the sky still holds out
And under this very sky
I stand in front of a machine
I put a penny in
And I’m hoping to get a penny out
A clang, and I can see it
My flattened penny
A dinosaur engraved onto it
A memory
Captured forever
Under this very sky

One Comment Add yours

  1. Deepti Chhiber says:

    Loved your poem, Aanya…. exquisite


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