Tennyson at 10

Tennyson at 10

A Promethean glow illumines,
A faint reflection, emaciated and pale,
Projected on a silicon slice, its nothingness foregrounding
Cement cakes hiding grey synapses,
Huddled in their pigeon holes.

The numbered pages measure
Progress
of a rumbling hunger.
A Perahera of memories flits across
Yearning for rest
from Dissecting hands of
An impassioned face.

Technorati Tags:

Advertisements