Tossing sleepless, knock out din
Pelting orchestra on my window screen
Sounds like high pitched turbine
revving of a super sonic engine
bounding from high to higher
crescendo of uncensored chorus
the two beat chant intermittent
carried on still air, a banshee wind
teeth jarring in my clenched chin
while the dark nights ablaze
reverberating love cry of Crickets
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Copyright ©Seema Jayaraman, Mumbai 2Nov2015 All Rights Reserved
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Carried on still, air! With the muse of the game. Thanks for sharing.
thanks Edward.