Sky Tree Water

by Ajay Kumar

Jacanda walking, on the water,
on the water-weed disciples,
its wings bronze, golden
the oil sachets it keeps walking on.

In the trees, there’s a decade
in that one note the koel likes to hold
in december, his eyes red in july.

In the sky, kindled blue, with a cloud
disturbed indigo, an eagle
flapping once- assurance
of gravity upon a time.