Tuesday, August 2, 2011

False voice

The wind in the palm tree
Outside my balcony
Sounds like rain,
The quartz clock
Mimics a dripping
Water tap,
The cat feasts
On the fish bones
Left in the bin
With the air of one
Who has hunted down
A fleet-footed prey,
A man who moves
From air-conditioned car
To air-conditioned cabin
Complains of the sun,
A saint who sees births
As high and low
Speaks of the oneness
Of the soul.

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