Inspired by posts on Vishesh's and Subbu's blogs
The wise man nods
At my words.
Alas,
He sleeps.
The light tinkle
of this yellow brook.
I shake
the last drops off.
Is Godot really dead?
I ask him
He stares silently
Holding the milk-can.
Friday, March 28, 2008
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1 comment:
Lovely.
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