NO NUCLEAR NIGHT, BHOPAL ?

Turpentine grass grows over this cold steel town
its black fingers lick the blue sky
and the birds ooze down drip by drip
painted out, painted dead.
One night the sky split, spat bright blood red
colour killed us
colour ate the night
cannibal colour
glowing dust grows over this turpentine town
small birds scream at night in dead droplets.
 

Anjana Basu
Calcutta, India