New Year Eve

The eagle descends to the point
it ceases to be homuncular
and begins to seem colossus.

The ground I stand is the white eye
of the halo of the bird’s dark orbit.

The last day flies away.
The ground looks disconcert
at its sudden broadness, and I
have time’s topography and no destination.

 

 

 

 Kushal Poddar
Picture Nick Victor

 

 

 

 

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