<\/p>\n
Color<\/strong><\/p>\n The light of the setting sun Birds are… I am so colored But my color, The black brute Even the leaves \u2013 Why nothing happens to me <\/p>\n <\/p>\n <\/p>\n <\/p>\n Utsav Kaushik<\/strong> doesn\u2019t consider himself a poet yet likes to babble obscurity. His voice is deep set in the grey shades of North India. Nature always inspires him for awkward cacophony. And he is a very talkative poet.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" Color The light of the setting sun Shining behind the trees And leaves mocking the window. Birds are… Chirping in praise of it That light has colored their feathers. I am so colored Like the window pane, Standing before the sun. But my color, It doesn\u2019t change, Though it changes for others. The black […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":4,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_et_pb_use_builder":"","_et_pb_old_content":"","_et_gb_content_width":"","footnotes":""},"categories":[7],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-12496","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-prose-poetry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/12496","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/4"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=12496"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/12496\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":12498,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/12496\/revisions\/12498"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=12496"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=12496"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=12496"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
\nShining behind the trees
\nAnd leaves mocking the window.<\/p>\n
\nChirping in praise of it
\nThat light has colored their feathers.<\/p>\n
\nLike the window pane,
\nStanding before the sun.<\/p>\n
\nIt doesn\u2019t change,
\nThough it changes for others.<\/p>\n
\nHovering outside
\nResembles a blazing meteor.<\/p>\n
\nDeterminedly green \u2013
\nAppear yellow.<\/p>\n
\nExcept, my color.<\/p>\n