At dusk


A blue glass cup
On a window sill did sit
One spot of milk on the saucer
And that’s all there was to it.

Through the lemony lace curtains,
A mossy meadow stretched
A russet sky dipped in yonder
And crystal-pricks of stars it fetched.

The cup and droplet trembled like wisteria,
In a passing truck’s milky light,
With dirge like melody they sighed…
Guess who’d watched ‘Brokeback Mountain’ last night?

Comments

neha said…
very nice :)
Mukta Raut said…
hi neha,

thanks. :-D
Leziblogger said…
Hi Mukta,

I am not much into poetry but could understand the theme!Nice one!

I visited your blog to return the compliment!I thought I will write a nice comment on your best blog entry and now I am having a tough time deciding your best entry.

I am giving up on the effort of finding the 'bestest' among the best.It it too much for someone as lazy as me. If there was a way, I would rather comment the entire blog!
Mukta Raut said…
hi lezi,

thank you. I like your blog too.
:-D