by Madhumita Ghosh
Incense burns
conch shells resonate in the fragrant air
the old tree by the holy river
worshipped again, stands tall
curious birds, flummoxed,
fly around the alien figure
looking for their homes
in the arms of the draped tree woman
Not so far away
she writhes and groans, alone
scalded, burning flesh
spreading no stench around
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The incense and the silence.. the contrasts boggle the senses. A superb poem.
ReplyDeleteExcellent poem
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