trying to read stories
in the noontime, when
least rain is expected
there is a hot chimera
on the tarred road
a lone woman with a
metal pot on head
poetry strikes now
in the whir of the head,
a body posture replying.
the sky becomes hot
in the pipal leaves
pictures are now colored
thin and brilliant
like dreams of purple
when nothing happens.
all that happens in
the transience of the hem
in the corners of leaves.
the body posture replies,
the question posed
then the reply, in the body,
in the way it crouches
and in the colored back
Jagannath rao Adukuri
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/noontime-stories/
