Bereft of leaves, the naked branch
That spreads onto our balcony
Is the curvature of mystery
Which poses the question eternally
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I enjoyed this piece, Seshendra, an intriguing and rich work. -Tailor B.
know you people devour the entire invisible world of my thoughts and feelings I know - that is why -I say it is naked but in that branch Time is flowing like electric current in the copper wire. a great poem. love it. tony