drops of fire


A half-hung firing drop stands aloof in clear and calmly
quizzing morning sun rays
Silvered beams hold them intact while their serially parallely
running pillared clones have blinked off quietly 

Scraps inside congested memory, not in-depths, but to last night’s
mysterious lamp-back pilgrim hustling past the emptied dark street

His dangling anklets resonates nostalgic with bullock cart tunes
swallowing looming darkness of village sand paths

Juggling cloth backpack tied untidily on his left arm
shines with an unwavering torch highlighting his bundled carriage

Symbolic signs emerge as one, reveals meaning

Ousts consuming dream teasers floating afresh on mind-rims
busting some heaviness to lighter bits and pieces 

pic courtesy:  http://rokis17.deviantart.com/art/Fire-Drop-346047535





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