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Srinjay Chakravarti  - India.

GLACIERS



"Memory is the glacier in which the past is preserved."
-- Patrick White, 'The Solid Mandala'

Ice-frozen river, blue-veined,
settles comfortably
into its viscous flow of immobility:
the immobile flow
of the past.
Mammoths, perhaps,
or dinosaurs
with the putrid stench of pain
are buried without coffins
in a dreamless sleep.
There were flowers, too, once --
entire valleys flowing with flowers
and grass and sunshine and rain.
All that is left is the debris
of remembering, not-remembering,
trapped in a language
sans alphabets.
The weight of memory gathers
on the brow of the valley,
the creased lines on the forehead
of the frowning hills.
Smoothed into river-courses gravid with ice,
blue-veined and white-veined,
across the slopes with snow-warped trees,
the frozen hills,
and the avalanched promise of sorrow.


 



 


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