You see the gold flake leaves and Auburn blankets,
the cherry cream bloom covers trees like jackets,
the sunlight glinting through the glade like rosy
prophetic oracle: exquisite, cozy,
but Autumn is corrupt, a reject’s Prozac,
commotion simulating tranquil soundtrack,
don’t you see all things are abortive dry rot?
The very color of a dying man shot,
the picture-perfect social vodka glass smile,
that transient jubilation that lasts a while.

© Nitin Lalit Murali (2018)

11 responses

  1. Thankfully it does last a while. Thank “God”, notice the capital! If that’s all the grace that’s offered I’ll take it! Ha, wtf! You have me laughing in such a good way at, “a reject’s Prozac”. Thank you, dearest Nitin, another brilliant piece!!!

    • I noticed! And yeah, at least we get a reject’s Prozac. It’s common grace, but some grace nonetheless. Thank you so much Mia! Your comment made me smile.

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