Winter Noon

Winter noon - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Cockscomb flowers, the toddler On the railing careless, The marigold in numbers swaying their Heads heavy with dewdrops, The moveless wind carrying the light That falls furtively through mango tree Seems to breath his last unto my doorsil, The wailing flies from flower to flower, Spewing their loaded breast and die on fallen Petals. The birds with unknown fear and the silence Uncharted put forth their musical breast With flaccid stream. The sun above looks like a moon single and solitary, The path tired and empty with dizzy, unfinished Serenade touches the wet hunting ground, In the inflated yawn of lenience and Indulgence of Noon's outpouring pain My mind sails to my far off days.