Iridescence

Sravani Saha
2 min readSep 21, 2021

A dull fog ambled down on wet soil
bubbling with hot carmine from my soul
It hung upon the air, like a dead leaf,
refusing to part with the branch.
Was it not the last shower of the season,
the last touch, the last whispers of love?
A fog from the last moments of release,
a breath held, and lost.

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Sravani Saha

Author of ‘Yes, The Eggplant is A Chicken’ https://amzn.to/2Iym2ok Humorist, Satirist, Mom, Ex-Googler. Write to me at s.sravani@gmail.com