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