A writer and a poet, Mamta looks within in this verse.
An Inner space of reflection
Mining one’s interior life
The thoughts are held as hostage
Every word has to be lugged into place
While the obese moon
Staining darkness with silvery sheen
Lifts from the mind
Freed from sense of claustrophobic confinement
The keyboard feels alive again
The fingers tapping freely
Waiting for polite applause.
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