This canopy has choked out the light
making the forest of life redundantly obscure.
a coffin for my home; where trees form walls,
confining me to this empty space.
Night comes with it sighs of painful,
sorrow - filtering through vegetation.
Shadows breed coyotes out of darkness,
hidden in acres of howling, and taunting.
Where I am a cursed duck with one wing
stuck on a fence, my compass set north.
Everything is looking down from here;
so willfully strong but, direly bending
to twist, and tangles of over growth.
No need for changing locks;
those slithering vines
made their way off
with my valuables.
From my prospective
time is left on the lease,
but I have already vacated,
gone away - away like the sun.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
WHERE I AM A CURSED DUCK WITH ONE WING STUCK ON A FENCE.......... Much....much you have told for us who are simply campassing on the space and surface to live and not to live. Topographical beauty is spectacular. If I forget this writing, memory will not be able to erase out the memory of Epiphyte not Epitaph. Can't bear the pain you have drawn by imagery...can't bear.....one wing cursed duck....... But the last line get again a bit relieve...... TIME IS LEFT ON THE LEASE, / BUT I HAVE ALREADY VACATED GONE AWAY - AWAY LIKE THE SUN Well done, Poet, LIVE LONG FOR US who are really very sick in living....... Regards, pranab 10++++