trying to read stories <br />in the noontime, when <br />least rain is expected <br />there is a hot chimera <br />on the tarred road <br />a lone woman with a <br />metal pot on head <br />poetry strikes now <br />in the whir of the head, <br />a body posture replying. <br />the sky becomes hot <br />in the pipal leaves <br />pictures are now colored <br />thin and brilliant <br />like dreams of purple <br />when nothing happens. <br />all that happens in <br />the transience of the hem <br />in the corners of leaves. <br />the body posture replies, <br />the question posed <br />then the reply, in the body, <br />in the way it crouches <br />and in the colored back<br /><br />Jagannath rao Adukuri<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/noontime-stories/
