Treasure Island

Radhamani Sarma


A Walk into Wilderness


A hoary moment of isolation and despair
takes you for a walk in the wilderness,
saggy, almost falling leaves,
driven out of their privileged homes,
one can powder them then and there,
rugged stems, the airless, emptiness,
powered by seasonal shifts, uncanny
elements of visitations, I could see,
some burnt pieces of wood, ashes,
ritualistic, supernatural, or factual
must have mutilated them.
Could it be some curse working
Upon them, know not. Birds
demure entry, not wanting
to those, once they frequented
the opulent, succulent off springs.
I pray, some sage must come
down to perform a carnival
to transform the neglect.

Submitted: Wednesday, December 11, 2013

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