Sunday, November 25, 2007

As water supports its solid's weight

A novice at life,
A yawning cherub;
Shook awake,rudely tossed-
Into an arena of snarling curs.

All around,
They snapped and cursed
Their teams drawn,
Battle lines laid.

Undecided spectators-
With arms folded
Neither help proffer
But aid in decay.

A blanket tossed-
Nae one of comfort-
Alas a coverlet
To hide the dead.

A chainsaw drawn;
To hack at the roots,
Slowly gnawing-
The heartwood weakens.

Little do they know
How deep beneath the surface,
An anchorage
Like an iceberg's best friend.


1 comment:

Gayatri Kale said...

Your poetry is beautiful. I don't think I write half as well.