Turning Tangerine Poem by Prasad Natarajan

Turning Tangerine

Adorning white veil those trees make way to the unknown,
Unknown curves, unknown turns, unknown path off my own,
Own cold tears like the falling leaves of this misty morn,
Morn in the deep jungle, a lonely stag going forlorn,

Meditating giant squirrel on branches of Yin and Yang,
Yanging around a jungle fowl with his feminine gang,
Gang of babblers picking off the ants from the floor,
Floor which is burning in slow flames, which is sore,

Pecking away a flameback drills his new home,
Home for racket tail, the racket tail here roam,
Roam the stripe guardian of these unknown green,
Green patch turning pale with heat, turning tangerine.

©Prasad.N March 3rd 2015
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