A shimmering silver wing,
Floating above
A blanket of tattered cotton wool,
Some pristine white,
The rest with a buttery glow
From the dazzling sunlight,
I sat caught in this magic,
Staring dreamily,
Through the oval aperture
Adjoining my window seat,
Almost starting to believe
In heaven.
A casual captains voice
Crackling on the PA system,
A steady weightless descent,
A cruel thud invaded my reverie,
You have left,
No one awaits me,
Only,
A hell of a city.
© 2009 Rituparna Das
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