Saturday, January 3, 2009

Stampede

Rare
Dreams
Drop like
Rain drops
Tears
Blocks of Black
hot tar melting
winter snow
covers
the fairy tale
the black 8th ball
awaits
never ending end
green fields
covered
with smoke
noise generating
love songs
candles collecting dust
diffused light
flicker less
breath
no connection
lost connection
a stampede of
you
no where to be found

1 comment:

  1. so beautiful,Amarjit. such simplicity, your words drop like raindrops indeed, like nine haiku one after one. this poem makes me dream of greenfields covered with some and make me miss the light of the candles collecting dusk.. and only breath itself is a wonderful thing.. could you not write more poems?
    Oana

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