Tinpahar
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Tinted Glass

A swamp-green-grass-water

Is what I see from my tranquil zone.

A Moorhen disappears

Leaving shadows of me and my book-racks

Trembling on the water-surface.

Now, I’m walking out of my world

My feet numb in coldness.

And now I see cocoons and centipedes

United in the darker places like Escher’s etchings-

Slithers a native snake, tadpoles jump like fairies…

 

I’m walking over the fence

And over the swamp,

Six feet above; casting a huge shadow;

I look like a violent drop of ink.

While looking back

Away from the arthropods,

Now I see my window:

The water and

A couple of upside-down birds-

My book racks-

My perfunctory knowledge.

While I stand in mid-air

Muscular trees cast their shadows

On the window-pane.

My two worlds collide,

In a secret, secret juxtaposition…

 

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