Whispers of Time
Night keeps the soliloquy
rosewoods eat the sun
Do not pluck
the sign says when
roses there are none.
In a slow flow creek
far voyages appear—
low into the clouds
dreams rumble,
I lay my days
sideways
on the strip of Gods
like the chalk dust
that cloaks the earth.
Abha Das Sarma - An engineer and management consultant by profession, Abha Das Sarma enjoys writing.
Besides having a blog of over 200 poems (http://dassarmafamily.blogspot.com), her poems have appeared in Muddy River Poetry Review, The Ekphrastic Review, Spillwords, Verse-Virtual, Visual Verse, Sparks of Calliope, Trouvaille Review, Silver Birch Press and Blue Heron Review among others. Having spent her growing up years in small towns of northern India, she currently lives in Bengaluru.
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