Hark! The rhythm

Hark! The rhythm. The pellet drum rattles. The dance begins. The creation, the annihilation, the fleeing in-betweens, and beyond these appar...

Sunday, September 7, 2014

Memoir

The loud whispers
Over the
Shunting clamour,
The blurred landscapes,
The varied hues,
From dusty browns
To lush greens
To brick rusts
And concrete greys
The timelessness of acres
Mixed with
The bustling kilometers
Far and few,
The unsophisticated amiability,
The numerous tales unfolding
Over
The sparkling speed of wheels,
Some journeys
Cherished for their ends
And
Some for the story they weave.

Linking with Five minute Friday : Whisper

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