Contributed by: Sadaf Shaikh on 4th Aug 2003 at http://www.groups.yahoo.com/group/thepointofview
This poem I dedicated to the neem tree in front of my house which made me write it.
Rain Fall
Pouring rain. Rings of water spread over reality's surface.
A Neem tree protrudes like a bright globe of stubborn light.--
Green bloom static in a hearth of evolving summer downpour.
The sky flows like crude paper pulp. A documentary evidence
of the humidity collected in the Neem flowers' petals.--
Like a static surge the rain streaks an indistinct image of life.
The throb of rain upon hard surface surmounts the house shapes.
Their windows beckon all light like black holes of a lost reality.--
Everything reduced and disassembled inside this soaked sphere.
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