Le Mot Juste
Flinging craziness, a coin soared random
In the midst of a crowd, I exclaimed:
Which way? Which way?
Seven roads surfaced at once,
Seven paths in captivating sum.
In moonlight, heavenly-sevenly;
All but southwest, in moonlight…
Fragments of the crowd scurried
Peculiar, whistling, hundred-petalled,
Discretely going off in directions
Which way? Which way?
An intense rushing aloud:
How sure are you of this path?
Or just about any road would do?
To choose between...
a Path or a Road?
My musing trailed with path.
Because this very d-i-s-t-a-n-t word
‘Wayfarer’ is reasonably thrilling,
Instead of a mere ‘Vagrant’?
But alas! At the very next,
The dreary-fierce beasts of cryptic prayer and simile
(of lovers and poets alike) ,
Tore apart and devoured my lustrous union.
poem by Ilham Ahmed
Added by Poetry Lover
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