Paurnami Raveendranath
The oranges, and yellows, and the sun.
Cycling around the block in the hot summer heat
going as fast as our wheels would take us,
and returning home to mango juice,
chilled — the best way.
Gulping down the nectar
the colour of the sun —
a beautiful gold —
as it dips over the horizon slowly,
its fiery rays coloring the skies.
The adults with their tea.
Us with our juice.
The marigolds continued to bloom.