bliss station ~ poetry

as simple as that

water makes no sound, friendly petioles
pardon leaves which flavor the wind green.

message of crow echoes, torch by torch.

a bird of sound alone, a small bird by sound,
flies from the mountains of that side -

- to the coconuts of this side, a fossil of a song
from the east to the west is a kingfisher,
a piece of cloud stuck in his throat, whitening it.

the trinity of coconuts sways, in memory
of a fulfilling wind, in extinction of right-angles,
all curving & moving, the white-throat drops

an anchovy, like punctuation, like leaves falling
in alliteration.

~Ajay
27/12/19