creative writing – elancharan gunasekaran

summer packs up and the driftwood ancient as time itself floats in

bloated belly: swallowed a ton of salt winds on the breakwall

summer at low tide: the crab scare on the bread baited hook

tread lightly: where the grass grows in soft spirals

keeping the evenings gentle with a ritual emptying of the cluttered mind

forgotten boundaries: the frail flesh and ego’s i

islands of flowers untouched revealed in a black and white dream

like cattle we follow the shade of clouds across the concrete fields

summer the caterpillar is returned to the garden with a small wish

chime of distant bells carries the essence of life across the concrete landscape