jacana walking, on the water,
on the water-weed disciples,
its wings bronze, golden
the oil sachets it keeps walking on /in the trees, there's a decade
in that one note the koel likes to hold
in december, his eyes red in july /in the sky, kindled blue, with a cloud
disturbed indigo, an eagle
flapping once - assurance
of gravity upon a time.
~Ajay
26/12/2019
YOU ARE READING
bliss station ~ poetry
Poetry~ where is your bliss station / you have to try to find it ~