Erettai Valan
Last tinge of greens have cowardly fled the fields,
Flushed out; like the leftovers from the sink,
Holes go smaller but deeper, little mice on their heels,
Dry and damp at the same time, cracks appear in a wink,
Hues of Cadmium yellow have taken over the scene,
Stagnant mind; like the solid stream across the street,
Scissor shaped tail with dark shadows preen,
Twisting and turning in his flight, a rare tiny bee to eat,
Vandyke brown eye of the falcon observe him keen,
Fierce intent; little pocket size black dynamo he is,
Bushchats take courage; they slowly appear on the screen,
Twisting and turning, the Erettai Valan goes by in a whiz.
©Prasad.N 27th December 2013.
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This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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