Wednesday, May 16, 2007

My 48th encounter with the peacock

My feathers no more
Like leaves on a branch
Like mortal men
Like the memory of their lives

How this wind scatters my feathers across the earth

How the teak tree bursts with new buds
How the sun is swallowed by a cloud

The sun rises again

So it is with my feathers
One generation comes to life
Another fades away

In this way

The peacock dictated his first poem
To me

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