Strange thing, bright night


The night came a while ago,
we shutdown the curly lines. The ladies walked to the inns;
the lights had given up on us. Children shifting to the round table,
with their homework in palms

The family house,
which stood 100 decades of world harassment. Wars from generations uglier faces,
looks wearied and ready to fall to the winds

Darkness quarreling in obscurity upon the village. Fireflies hovering around;
with perches of beautiful moments of birds all over.

The moon is now brightening more,
and darkness losing her essence. But guess what happened,
the oldest survived hut;
from our ancestors has finally gone—
to rest with the souls of our people in the spirit world

The Village Thinker © 2014


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