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Radhamani Sarma


There Is A Black Pal




There is a Black pal, my
Visitor regular, cool and calm.
In my balcony, its abode of
Grain or rain, it visits my
Perambulations profoundly strain,
If Black were to be a curse,
Woe to the Creator’s paradigm of
Release and hearse.
If colour were to be
A conscious matter of grouse,
Hollering would annoyingly increase.

Deliverance is too far,
Even now, for it is intricate,
it is manmade
aggrandisement.

Submitted: Sunday, January 12, 2014
Edited: Monday, January 13, 2014

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