An ordinary dawn

In the cobalt hue
softness lingers. For the birds,
it is time to raise the alarm,
for the rag-pickers, a new day
to rummage the earth
for reusables.

The rickshaw-puller coughs
and withdraws one last time,
pulling the rug around him.
It's the end-phase of monsoon.

A dragonfly rests upon my railing,
morning hue on its wings. I watch
its perplexity. The opening words
of a tap stir me. I recall the reddened
moon of the last eclipse.

Masonry work resumes,
the clatter of hammer against iron
rebounds in the neighbourhood.
Darkness fades and reveals
distinct craters all around me.
The stench of a rat's carcass
attracts a murder of raspy crows.

On my verandah,
the dragonfly gone, and with it
the sizzling wings of morning.