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The Pylon
Wafted spring tumbled down in the epoch events
Crimson ray dispersed haphazardly
Over viewing the tundra slant from the prairie
Cinder psyche of Cinderella crackled
Seething austerity of the sunny circumstances
Fanning amid the staggered husk of patience
Lost found trust and lucid yawn of complacence
Log on the network to an age bound soil-son.
Who splashes the century wave
Inviting future to dine with the present?
Why is the evening cross-legged on the chair -
Projecting cliffs of creamy imagination?
The think tank is blank and people dislike lofty rank
Who is there concealing the vinyl heart of tough time?
Way, way there is a way – a voice interpleaded
Opening a bag of pink tint from the pleasant moon
And set the age plug at the point of millennium pylon.
poem
by
M. Mostaqul Haque
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