Smoke withered away from sand the other day
from a wasted cigarette butt.
The stick was living its last breath,
Living as much it could, as much it must...
Smoke flew towards the right,
Slowly waking up from the sand
It crawled a bit in circles
And then flew up the land.
Little symbols of life-
Just living, Just gone away
glimpse at us from time to time,
Like that cigarette butt breathing its last day...
- Gauri Gharpure
5 comments:
it's good gauri.
Good going Gauri! Nice poem! Hope Metro quits ciggi!
It was really thought evoking but y did the smoke went right and not left any particular reason for it...???
life of a man = life of a cigarette
check this out to find out how smoking kills & then teaches u to live..
http://pradeep-thakur.blogspot.com/2007/10/smoking-kills.html
Interesting. Though I found first two paras saying same thing over and over again :D
Something to think about; was it really smoke of life or smoke of death? I say not from the POV of cigarette's being injurious to life, but from the POV of death being imminent in this case. Just a perspective....
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