Ash In A Tray

Rose thoughts were

in the room

when you entered

with your sack of cabbages

glowing joy of bargain

at the vegetable mart;

pride in

saving a few (priceless) coins

stared with contempt

and climbed the stairs

going up to the kitchen;

rose thoughts

shivered and shrank

from that look

of wise cabbages

then withered into silence;

the season was

not

for them,

smoke filled their doom

a death-smell pervaded

the mind

gloom of confusion

or the ash of a dead cigar

lay in the ashtray.

~R K Raizada~

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