The Visit Poem by AMITAVA MAZUMDAR

it was snow almost flown
every surface of the sphere
i was invited alone.

the streets are like giants snakes
waded out from the rivers
a fig tree by the roadside
shrouded in white flakes.

i've to go downhill
where all bends turned
and turned till...

a house there at the small hillock
stood like a wailing virgin
and that was my stop.

but the clouds sometimes
without any indulgence
wafts and sublimes

if i've to go there
i threw up my limbs
before the sunrays grew fainter

i came at last to the doorway
there i heaved a little
and make myself thrown in a fray...