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September, the cruellest of months
The dragon flies stage
An apology of a dance
To the reverberating coarseness
The parched leaves throw
Into the vacuous space
The frail fatigued feathers
Droop under a blazing sun
They keep flying
A bare sky and an equally
Bare earth as the backdrop
Their arid throats go coarse
One half of the earth flooded
While other half wags its parched tongue
A distant thunder teases
Filling hope into a bone-dry heart
22sep2010
14.30hrs
poem
by
Indira Babbellapati
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