Flight

Ranju Mamachan
Aug 22, 2017 · 1 min read

Five fingers huddle together,

earth and rock made,

valvate, black and charred,

stand the wrath of clouds,

enclose a vertical cave.

Birds of prey fly in circles,

burning the mountain fingers.

Weyrlings float,

spread-eagled,

fighting the clouds,

above the dance of wings and flames.


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The writer's soup

Unpacking the mind of the writer.

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Ranju Mamachan

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The resolute fearlessness of this blog comes from the knowledge that no one is reading it.

The writer's soup

Unpacking the mind of the writer.

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