The Peacock
His
loud sharp call
seems
to come from nowhere.
Then,
a flash of turquoise
in
the pipal tree
The
slender neck arched away from you
as
he descends,
and
as he darts away, a glimpse
of
the very end of his tail.
I
was told
that
you have to sit in the veranda
And
read a book,
preferably
one of your favourites
with
great concentration..
The
moment you begin to live
inside
the book
A
blue shadow will fall over you.
The
wind will change direction,
The
steady hum of bees
In
the bushes nearby
will
stop.
The
cat will awaken and stretch.
Something
has broken your attention;
And
if you look up in time
You
might see the peacock turning away as he gathers
his
tail
To
shut those dark glowing eyes,
Violet
fringed with golden amber.
It
is the tail that has to blink
For
eyes that are always open.
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