From above, the city is a scarf
of softest chiffon
invisible at night save for the glittering gold
of scattered light
coalescing into patterned squares at the center.
Perhaps Radha has travelled far from her Indian homeland
to this windy city
and Krishna, laughing
teasing
has pulled off her scarf
discarding it here to form a city almost ignorant of them both
before pulling her into his embrace,
dancing on to warmer lands.
*****
M.A. Mohanraj
March 1, 1993
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