A dove with a broken wing

The sky was cloudless, clear, dark  and black,

There was no question of turning around back;

Not on the hill which the rain bathed green,

But walking on flat roads where nobody had been;

The adamant fog tried to block the wary way,

But the roads said ‘run’ you don’t have to stay;

The silent pebbles didn’t complain about pain,

Tired of alerting effort which were all in vain;

Not an alarming screech of the worried little owl,

Not a scared, sorrowful wolf to give a loud howl,

Now the moon had vanished away leaving no trace,

The starless sky showered the darkness on the face,

The birds refused to cheer, tweet, chirp and sing,

A hurt dove  walked  on the road with a broken wing.

Copyright 2016 Chitkala Mulye (Chitkala Aditosh

 

 

 

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