Sparrow without an arrow

I was itching to write a poem. An etheree seemed more appropriate, considering I love words these days. A lot of them.



My being.

Tell the drift.

Perhaps the wind

Will assist  your attempt.

They shot down my gay flight.


Flung me to shoot at unseeing walls,

They took my arrow away yonder.

Do you see? Spite is clipped sparrows in flight.



10 thoughts on “Sparrow without an arrow”

  1. Your ability to capture nature — its obvious beauty and its hidden drama — never fails to amaze me. Please keep your camera and your laptop ready at all times, for whenever that itch strikes. (Even the poem itself is shaped like an arrow!)

  2. Priya, I admire your dedication to the word. Poetry is the most difficult way to employ words. You’ve done a marvelous job of it here, and the images add greatly to the effect. AND you taught me something new! I’d never encountered etheree before and had to look it up to find out what it was all about!

  3. Beautiful poem, and I love the photos! (But then I would, as I love birds!) I just came over from my new blog, by the way, and was just drafting a post on house sparrows!

    1. What a coincidence! I look forward to reading it. I must visit the new blog. I confess I like the name a lot. It beckons. 🙂

  4. “Spite is clipped sparrows in flight.”
    This is one of your more powerful posts, in my opinion. So often less is more, and you’ve captured ‘more’ with this short poem, for certain.
    I need to get back to your blog more often!

    1. Thank you for such a close observation, Bela. This line is one those sets of words that left me breathless as I wrote it. It happens sometimes, na?

      Whenever you find time to come here, it’s good. You give me joy!

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