Monday, October 9, 2006

Gen Evening Comments

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The time when wood-smoke curls,
Smells of frying onions and other cooking carry,
Cattle heavily amble back to their places of rest,
Dogs scratch and children chase in a desultory way.
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Mill Field
COMMENTS
Torsa Ghosal 09 October 2006

There's something in this poem that sparks off an image of nostalgia and deja vu in me.. good one.

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