The Woman In The Picture Poem by Jagannath rao Adukuri

The curtains are drawn
In a bizarre way, in a knot.
There are heaps of books
Book upon book, little hillocks
Good enough for eagles' view,
She looks down, calmly
She stands on a flat plane
Uniquely two-dimensional.
I try climbing the hillocks.
It is pretty dizzy over there
And her breath is ice-cold
Let me open the curtains
The sun is behind the hills.
The shadow of the hills
Grows minute by minute
And, silently, book by book.
The moon is peering through
The spaces between curtains
Touching the frayed edges
Of the hard bound tome.
The woman looks out of her
Trapped existence in frame
She had happened in time
Just a point in the plane of time
The same plane that passes
Through our own existence.