A thud of the axle.
Goosebumps of rain
shiver into life on the window.
Wipers flail their arms
like the oar-men of Onam.
En route the intestinal turnings now.
The city suffers a leaky gut.
Whirlpools of dark water
become the door knobs to invisibility.
The last foothold.
Its size changes constantly.
Our ship connects many islands.
A slithery snake with fangs of light,
it bites its way out of darkness.
And our hope, shiny and hard-
a dead starfish-
decorates us amidst everything.
5 comments:
Your metaphors are always evocative. They are curious, they are lively, they slip under the skin. Hope you got home safe, that day :)
@ Usha
Thank you. Yes, I did reach safely. That's the best part in a journey. Our hopes are strong, hard and shiny like that dead starfish.
Trinath, a few awards for you and your blog, here :) congratulations :)
http://ushus.wordpress.com/2012/01/08/added-to-the-mantelpiece-are/
lovely...Specially:
Wipers flail their arms
like the oar-men of Onam.
Thoughtful alliteration
"Whirlpools of dark water
become the door knobs to invisibility."
I'm still trying to imagine a door knob in a whirlpool. Invisibility is fine.
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