Poem By Minnoor srinivasan

Is it the snake sneaking?
In the grove sylvan
It is but the river
Welcome by the trees
Greeting with dropping flowers
Night tries hatching
The moon-egg
In the attempt abortive
Sheds the dew-tears
Poor night-hen!
As the dark florist sea
Trying to sell surf-flowers,
None to smell and buy!
The writhing sea wails

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