Monday, June 19, 2017





FLOTSAM

Lightships do not bleed,
says the old man in the
wooden boat.

As the water-crabs claw sunsets
back into their throats,
the sea reaches for a blade
to slit their unsuspecting skins.

Serene hyacinth, monk
of the monsoon waves,


drums a dirge
on the rainbow-crowned backwater drops.

Six feet into the bay,
the dolphins dream
of a lost quay.

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