Inside Diwali

We would mix sulphur and coal for days
And let it dry on string cot in warm sun.
We stuffed mixture in newspaper cones.

Lighted cones hissed like snakes in a sky
Only to dive some times to waiting straw
On sleeping houses, recently laid to roof.

We made cloth balls of stones in sulphur
To bang on decrepit walls for a loudness.
We made holes in star smiles on posters.

We made such sound in moonless night
That birds shut their ears in mango tree
With not even a flutter heard in leaves.

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