THE PLOP OF A FROG-COLORED-GRIEF

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
(i can't summarize )

Submitted: January 18, 2011

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Submitted: January 18, 2011

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Everything is creased & kept
In right place & order
To avoid even a particle of dust.
But all worms
Are not devised to
Die before
A naphthalene.

The dead narcissus,
The spittle of wind on windowpane,
The half-empty dish of rice
Beside the folded mattress
Make me return & recall
The days of nursery school,
The lesson of my favorite farmer.
His corns would come & store themselves magically !

Flying out of ancient hearth
Gods & dogs
Gift me
The vessel of ashes.

Being deaf,I hear
The 'plop'
Of a frog-colored-grief
On the lake of desire..


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