Monday, July 25, 2011

From off the green

Smoke from a scooter's
modern flute,like soiled rain
runs through my hair,
They fall one by one
like bottles in a bar
Lets sleep on a child's 
shoulder tonight,
For the rest will work
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2 comments:

  1. Wine and WordsJuly 25, 2011 at 3:32 PM

    My four year old niece gave me braids. It was like rest...her fingers there. It was therapy. Their little shoulders are too small to cradle any need of mine, but oh how yet they give.

    I loved the way this played out in your hair. You pay attention Manik. Your mind like a camera...zoom lense, wide angle, back again.

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  2. manik sharmaJuly 26, 2011 at 10:28 AM

    Annie, its been a long time...hasn't it...it feels good to be back where i feel i belong...You and i and everyone would give anything to be that child once again...won't we..and their shoulders are at the most peace be it they can't lift any...look sideways from us...it tells you all...

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