Crows by Ananya S Guha

It was day of  awful
black crows, nesting
by the side, cawing.
They hovered in frenzy,
went out to the rains
to have a bath.
Sloshed, drenched
they came back
with their antics.
they stand on an edge
of a precipice;taking
you with their gauche,
black-coloured bodies.
You are afloat watching them.
They are mirrors,in which
we are cadavers.

Ananya S Guha

Ananya S Guha ( 1957) lives in Shillong, in North East India. He has been writing poetry and publishing his poems over thirty years.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s