Letters
i feel a feverish pulsation
pass through my veins
as i look at each word
uttered or unuttered
placed in the cup of my palm
bound by time, the
words disintegrate
and each letter
slips and slides
into a timeless space
mostly never to return…
i crack under the weight
of the silence they leave behind
but
the ones that return
to the warmth of my palm
are drained of the pulsating
passion and boomerang to
attack me with the
ferocity of a wounded lion
filled with compassion at
their helpless act of defense
i hug the poor rag-doll letters
weary after a futile journey…
i fold these letters in compassion
and i shelter them
on my soft lap
…the wounded-wing letters
fallen midflight to a cruel arrow
17sep2009
15.29hrs
poem by Indira Babbellapati
Added by Poetry Lover
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