The summer has cast its spell, <br />As a demure man looking at <br />Many stitches in his pants; <br />Snow has left the peaks for <br />The matured plain to be flat <br />And mobile as an unwed girl's <br />Late night dream; pipes of dry <br />Leaves roll on fronds to check <br />Trussed birds from bleeding; <br />Cakes of cow dung leave many <br />A moon on the distended walls; <br />Years get squeezed in waxed eyes, <br />As virginity jumps into bowls <br />Of white porcelain and stays lazy; <br />Flanked by arms with bangles <br />Her innocence falls silent; <br />The crows have stopped flapping <br />Their wings in the noon when wisp of <br />A stray cloud brings the dirge, <br />From a remote graveyard sleeping <br />At the grassy lap of a sullen hill. <br /> <br />All right reserved @Tiku 2014<br /><br />Tiku akp<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/this-summer-7/
