An evocative prose poem by Deeya that talk of seasons, a seaside resort and more.
Summer is at the helm of affairs, glistening beads of sweat wrap the skin one wore,
clandestine Fox-gloves brushed past one’s skin tall palm trees nibbled the air – a long journey
of one season to another announces the serenity that resided in between the lips and the
mouth.
The seaside resort is the haven of golden glee – gulls in the foam white specs of cloud –
honeyed forms of love and life – ginseng to weaker nerves debilitated mind – flamboyant
pink flamingos chat with an instilling vigour in the still waters that weave images of
cognitive show.
Somewhere a poet’s mind is suffused with a lambent pain that coats the sultriness of the air –
an easy breath that suffer spasms of inertia – songs of pretence are not in vogue it’s only the
Merope that pecks into the anonymous trees in search of humming bees a vigorous predator
at play.
©Deeya Bhattacharya
Pic from Net.
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