poem by Anu Majumdhar

winding_roadNo one knows
why this road never stops.

At noon, when the sun
burns your feet…
there is a waterlily somewhere
dozing with the frogs.

When the road changes
it happens without warning:
like a kingfisher
striking through water
shaking up the frogs.

You watch the world
roar through your mind, full claxon.

The kingfisher sits still.

 

Anu Majumdhar

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