Betrothal

say where should i keep all those foot-prints having no lineage from whose paraffin-in-the-palms has taken birth so much monsoon rain-falls why the seagulls of this earth have not learnt in a better way the meaning of open windows wearing the same costume they can fly only from the north-east thames to the non-aryan autumn in the woods of yellow moon-light the feathers fall down from the body of the villagers they levitate as letter like the leaves of coconut before the windows of a hospital it may happens then in the fire of the cigarette in-between the fingers there is no more in waiting any absent-mindedness rather after composing their letters properly the mermaids in the deep-fridge are waiting for their next print by putting the fire of the dry straws in the air the indifferent neighbour saves the intellect of the red-sandalwood thus if it is possible to catch there the betrothal in the oily pollens of the spring