Thursday, July 03, 2014

956

Float away, the rain-sea that is also the sky.       
Untethered to anything.
Shuffled by wind.                                           
Still, it sinks.

 Lower and lower with the pull of the million eyes that look up and hope.
at
Labels: ,

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Alternate endings, depending on the mood:

...still it stinks
or
...still it sings

5:31 PM

Post a Comment

Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom)

Day 71 of 108

Lord! The amount of work! Today I could feel it in my bones...the notion that I am an old soul! Goodness! The weariness, the jadedness... ac...

  • Save the Indian (male) child
    This isn't exactly a feminist tirade, but this is written by a woman, and it is written in annoyance. You raise your girls to be sweet...
  • Not any more in a book store
    I visited the Crossword at Mulund. It is big, bright, noisy, and has a really chic café. There are books too. The reason I was there was to ...