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voyage to india MAG
it is one of those nights
when the clouds can't seem to swallow
their tears and the stars have forgotten
to dress the sky.
along the horizon
there are hills like white elephants
silhouettes of trees with naked branches trailing
ivory streaks across the canvas.
and once in a lonely while,
the spectral crescent moon
dangles
as paper marionettes twirl with upraised
arms from a taut, invisible string.
shhh,
the children are dancing.
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“I care not what others think of what I do, but I care very much about what I think of what I do! That is character!” ~ Theodore Roosevelt