Three lovely little sparrows
For a moment, on my white balcony.
Soon fly to the roof of pigeons—
Burnt sienna greened and browned with age.
Black and white birds scatter the sky,
Their tails slowly sinking.
The mynahs do not tarry here
I know not why.
A groan of thunder, parliament disassembles
And all that's left:
The tupai negotiating the barbed wire—
Foot in
Foot out.
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A/N: To be read aloud with a distinctly Scottish inflection.
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Anarchy
PoetryAnarchy. A swirl of topics: emotions, allusions to history, social issues... And somewhere in the maelstrom comes forth rhymes and prose. Note: If you can't be bothered to read all the poems (quite understandably), I've starred the better ones.
