It's early morning.
The mist comes rolling.
She engulfs, embraces, smothers.
The high rises of Worli snuggle and whisper.
The blue of the sea, Colors their being,
Clouds shapeless hug their ceiling.
Love is made, wanton, in open, and free.
The sky misses the mountains,
Accepts concrete in lieu of their need.
Hardik Vaidya's Other Poems
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Poet's Notes about The Poem
Comments about this poem (Adaption by Hardik Vaidya )
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(1644 - 1694)
(13 September 1916 – 23 November 1990)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(1612 – 16 September 1672)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(c. 600 BCE)
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- The Road Not Taken, Robert Frost
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- Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night, Dylan Thomas
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