Drone

By Geethanjali Dilip

My eyes hover around in drone lenses

Over my forest of dissipated dreams

Blobs of mushrooms and broccoli looking drab yet alive

They almost invite me to fall freely as if to buffer my fear of breaking into pieces,

I lay suspended over such a forest far from ear shot

Where I cannot hear the cacophony of songbirds,

Yet my head rings with the din of wind gushing,

Hitting my cheeks as I surrender to the gravity,

I simply fall the way I’ve always fallen,

Between the realms of dreams and reality,

Waiting for time to take over my somnambulist slumber,

And wake up to pick up the pieces that I am,

In my forest of drab broccoli and mushrooms,

Invading the clearing in my head.

By Geethanjali Dilip