The Poetry Kit |
| Ashok Niyogi | |||
| DUSK Today, a gust of wind came hard and sudden, blew away earth, and left fallen leaves, yellow with death, a carpet over hollow. Black, gaping, toothless in rictus. Knowledge will swallow, blackbirds of time, dead leaves will rhyme with bones bleached by tomorrow's sun. Big drops of pregnant rain give birth in pain. After, the chasm vaporizes time, premature dusk incubates in heat from the loins of parched earth yearning for orgasm. Half made up moon cajoles time to meet with time, even as it wanes. Impatient, it swipes at spores of wispy cloud, to shine loud at dead grass yellow in shadow. |
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