Poetry

My Blue Melancholy

Dear blue, all around.

Like the sky,

On the verge of tears.

 

Mourning blue,

Morning hue.

Inks into memory.

The cold blue hue.

 

Mind blank.

Blanched papers –

Blot like blue.

Perspectives,

Pure Blue.

They fill the canvas-

And fail to leave.

So I paint it with white, black, orange.

Until it became the sky.

 

                                                                 ~ Tania Alphonsa George

                                                                    Kollam, India

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