(or a selfie at the funeral of back cameras)

there is no peace wherever I live because I am a darkness.

I don't know why pieces of wood
are drying on a rope, kids in construction work
among other things I forget to photograph -

the sky that looks like a spoof of a sunset scene
of a masala movie about to transition into a song.

on average, orange means a million things
when a poet-type person says it, yet there's one more
today in the evening sky, one more blue too.

what makes this blue this blue is a million things -
one of them is your pen-biting laughter, the other -
the funny wetness of growing older. the herald
bear-cloud has a part too in losing youth, in making
this blue this blue.

a white fish, with a green tail, floats over a green leaf.
the camera wants the leaf to be yellow, red, something
contrasting but the lens-cap falls into the gargling brook
beneath the fish swallows it & climbs a waterfall
becomes a dragon, the camera also learns to walk on its own.

I walk towards the pieces of wood,
the pieces of childhood that have turned their backs on the greyness,
to where I live, the peace there - more light & light, more & more light.

~Ajay
24/12/2019