 |
 |
||
|
|
|||
Main Page |
down, soft as a feather from the painted wing of the sun. Bright bird of morning, with plumage of red-gold streaked with purple shadow. Soaring along the blue arc of sky, toward its peak bathed in fire: the flight of hours, beating on blazing wings brings us to the tyranny of noon. White heat flashes in sharp cruel talons, rips out the eyes of its prey. Who can stare at the pure eye of the day's emperor without turning blind? Srinjay Chakravarti (srinjchak@hotmail.com) CALCUTTA INDIA Poem copyright ( c ) 2003 Srinjay Chakravarti
|
Virtual Postcards |
|
|
info@polseguera.com |