far

Poetry

Apology, with a cup of tea

Resoun B. Acharya
issue three

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You excavated old sores, retired,

slept earlier. I kept on windowing,

listened the dripping

pond where night geese

played rains of moon

as fairies;

tidal clotted delight

in my veins

jellied as absorber of passion;

there was liberty reforming

in between glamor of skies

and fewer spectators

invited, the nocturnal actors

were in their spots within the stage;

a grasshopper crept like a moon’s keeper

on the overlapping plate of the yellow pond,

interference of toads echoing

was my hearing delicacy.

Thunder sparkled fluttering in the flowers.

the frightened sparrows

peeped in clusters

the possessed night not

just with a known beauty;

I listened plunging ears

into bosoms of the lustred

terrain for higher joy

which I could search around,

appealed, obsessed.

I apologize

you couldn’t watch the white

guavas and gooseberries

motioned with new breeze

or yet anything that

embraced me, of desires;

I apologize that I

shall move earlier towards

the tidy hills surfaced around

beauty in thirst;

there will be an apology

yet with a cup of tea

upon the table; you may smile

when I keep my measures

in perfumed orchards or enriched pools

starred with early birds and custard apples.