No Sickness of the City

It was sunset lone The sky deep orange, and the birds lined For homecoming, and lazily they gleamed.   Thirteen peasants angling, their eyes fixed to baits, And beside half a dozen half-naked children dirtying in…

4 Comments

An Old Man on a Wooden Bridge

An Old Man on a Wooden Bridge An old man sat on an old wooden bridge amid the forest deep Beneath ran a hidden mossy creek, and beyond, The trees were lovely, dark and green, and…

5 Comments

“KUNJNAGAR”

At Kunjanagar beside the potholed street stood I at blazing sunset lone. The orange cloudlets scattered the western horizon. Slowly evening descended, and tiny dew droplets began falling. The birds went home and stopped their songs…

18 Comments

End of content

No more pages to load