Portrait Poem by Raj Arumugam
Portrait
Four truculent decades have trundled down the slope
and the subject life's left me is myself.
Not a Rembrandt self-portrait or a Picasso
or even a tortured Vincent;
merely a portrait to hang in
the closed-door dusty gallery
of a man who has no claim on the world
(from The Migrant - notes of a newcomer (February 1997- July 1998))
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4/24/2024 12:55:16 PM # 1.0.0.1119
