As the dawn promises yet another tar melting day I choose an unaesthetic cotton sari to drape myself to sail through this never ending nightmare. My summer saris neither speak in glaring colors nor are they grandiloquent in intricate designs of embroidery or motifs to weigh me down. They are rather humble beings; soft spoken and soothing. Old friends in trying times. In the furnace of a kitchen they would wipe the weariness that trickles in sweating streams with tender caress. Ah, for their feather touch love! The grueling day could have me stifled and make a tawny grass out of me soaking all my greenness but for those six yard drapes. As I embark on the breezy night I let my anchal* fly in the wind.
The day simmers
Street dogs half immerse in ponds
I drape nights in daydream
*one end of the sari draped over the shoulder.
Posted for Haibun Monday # 17 @ dVerse
Shared with Poetry Pantry #313 @ Poets United