Sunday, 25 August 2013

not so broken umbrella

the rain 
the river wandle
it almost flowed
wholly horizontal
the sound of jazz
the lonely path
the green green green
the puddle that almost seemed
like a /mirage/
the pink flowers touching the water
shrouded in fog
life, it grows ever-shorter
for the two umbrella's, not so broken
broken urdu: the words that went unspoken
kya kehna chahti ho?
...remember that time it started to pour...
remember that old storm
I was with you then
 you were feeling so forlorn
and then another came along
and she was feeling the same
but now all that remains
is the smell/ from the bread factory
-kind of trippy-
/all these discarded memories/