By Ajeeti S
MIRAGE AT NOON
The sky was white with burning light,
the dunes were resting low,
his shadow crawled beside his feet
with nowhere left to go.
A ripple danced across the sand
a gate, a street, a dome,
he saw a city made of glass,
a dream that called him home.
He smiled, though his lips were cracked and dry,
he knew the trick of thirst
yet still he chose that wavering line,
for worse, or maybe worst.
But then -- cool shade, a hustle of leaves,
the splash of water,
an oasis loomed around his fall,
too sudden to be near.
Now every time the sun stands high,
he swears he saw it truly --
not all mirages lie, he says,
some only wait for you.
Ajeeti S is a banking professional with a passion for poetry and painting. She explores creativity beyond numbers through verse and visual art.
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Click here to access Wild Winds: The Borderless Anthology of Poems
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