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Mar 7, 2007 at 3:41pm
#1466605
# 28 Sometimes, time is compressed inside a moment. In other ways, in a specific moment, we feel we've lived years. Write a poem about such a moment. Snow is my Pillow A wrong jump awakened a lot of dormant truth. Sometimes just a slot makes you breath smoother than hundred thousand gusts. And a short glimpse makes you notice better than through the best magnifier. The faraway breeze mumbled to make me freeze and by my window I heard the rattles of the wind. My dusky thoughts refuted crystals chronic falling. A weird stranger dressed in rags was rambling outside. Amazed I watched him filling with snow his bag. I opened the window and leapt to call him in. A wild cat crushed my face for me to faint then. Plots started forming, ‘my grandson, go back home I’m an old shallow man whose house is everywhere Snow is my pillow and hail is my diet Now go back to your hut and leave me just as quiet,’ The old man sighed and carried his bag away… Following his steps, he vanished slowly as his body mixed up with white spreading snow. ‘Wake up my dear; you’ve slept for too long now,’ Mum whispered through my ears as I opened my eyes. The smell of sauce mingled with dead leaves smell and the setting was back home with real life tracks; where the hero had just quitted being a character. ‘Soft is my pillow and meat is my diet.’ On hearing my murmurs, mum gazed at me I feebly smiled as I looked at my nearby plate. |