hill-top.



HILL-TOP

bare threads swept down,
to stitch the hole,
through which i used to,
peep at reflections of my own fallen back,
with trace of whip.

the bunch of sun rays,
discard a bit of night.
in grey light,
u realize what you,
were staring the whole night,
is not the hill-top.





Poetry by vijay shanker
Read 628 times
Written on 2008-01-26 at 17:17

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