Saturday, 18. April 2009
Radhika's Heart
The heart's well with its deeps,
which no sunlight seem to reach,
now shuttled between a continent's cities, swaddled in bag and bone,
does it reflect, i.e., feel anything, when the snows of crab apples and magnolias
fall this late hour of an early spring day, other than its old thirst for the ocean?
My Poems
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