The Earthy Habitat 8
there are so many pieces of torn paper
into the stone-chips of the broken road
they are of summer
they are of late autumn
beside is the ice-mill
the glow-sign board
attached tightly
the indelible ink
catches the finger of the lemon-grass
the fish-market is also alive and glad
the young minister of state
sends his best wishes
to the handloom-girls
in between
some horn-blowing of the
camels
the labour-strike trembles
the water of dhaleswari-river
has been filled
with the sound of subsistence
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
