A Passing Image of Life

My first poem written while I was in 12^th. I got its name christened two years later by my most beloved and reverent teacher, Professor Manushi Chakraborty who was the HOD of English Department at Moti Jheel College, Kolkata.

Presenting it, in its raw form with no corrections in style and content...

Oh! the trumpet is blown

Is it for the approaching storm?

With its dark clouds like that

Of the uniformed soldiers

Marching towards the field

With a thundering sound

 

Oh! is it the wind

Blowing the whistles through

The trunk of the trees of oak

Taking along the dead leaves

As the magical pipe of Pied Piper

Took the mob along?

 

Oh! The sudden flash of light

Drawing silver lines

On the dark clouds above

Is it reminding us of this petty world?

Where joy visits rarely

And disappears suddenly

 

Oh! The sarcastic look

On the human by the sky

Laughing at their thoughts and ideals

Which should be flown and buried

In the western horizon

With the sun and the stars

© Anjana Premkumar 2020