You will not find poetry anywhere unless you bring some of it with you. Joseph Joubert

Friday, May 23, 2008

The Madwoman

A knotted sack with
bones i suppose,
some dead flowers...
Tiny black wings
of a butterfly that is lost
and dust laden seeds of insanity.

...was resting on the pavement
aligning the murky way to the dead Church.

And i thought not to call the angels for her.

I thought not to disturb the resting soul


Inam said...

"And i thought not to call the angels for her." - the strongest lines in the poem I think, its got a strange mixture of wistfulness, pain and peace. Keep writing!!!

Parjanya said...

Evanescent!.....and i was reminded of the Little Match girl.....