Morning images

There the parijat flowers lie on the earth ,

Their faces in the dust, feet to the sky.

Someone’s cut flower creeper still fills

The air with previous night’s fragr’nce.

On the hills ,from a balcony ,a dark woman 

Looks down as if expecting the milkman. 

There a man is up in arms against the sun.

A w’man froths at mouth with toothpaste.

Words remain,as many scraps of memory.

An image or two  vanishes in the wilderness;

Its fragrance stays as unrealized poetry.

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