OPINION

Poetry: July Afternoon - Poems of Gwalior

July 15, 2010
Amitabh Mitra

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july afternoon an unbridled river rushed down the fort on to the chironji trees a battle cry rose eyes and steel glinted in forsaken shadows a cloud burst galloped in many a steed on the dead and dying the green turbaned man who lives with the bats in the cave came out again touched the rain his eyes swirled birds screamed imprisoned in stronger silence we had held on to the stones your hair closed me in your hands held my thumb palms caught the language of rage a maratha rain a tale as old as this fort you said is a slaughter of rumination you and me would still grow in this broken sun in a fallacy of such a gwalior noon.

Poem and Watercolor by Amitabh Mitra

An orthopaedic surgeon in a busy hospital in East London, South Africa, I actually belong to Gwalior, Madhya Pradesh, its long summers and hectic politics. I edit a print poetry journal called 'A Hudson View', a journal on African arts called 'Inyathi' and dream of going back to Gwalior. My blog on South African Arts is http://www.amitabhmitra.blogspot.com/
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Poetry: July Afternoon - Poems of Gwalior

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Author: Amitabh Mitra

 

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