Tuesday, June 07, 2016


Of late,
Things are being spewed at me.
The hurling objects look to me
like glowing snow-like pebbles
smothered with ash.

It is not until late that I realize
they are the radiantly glowing,
hot and fuming pieces of coal.

I chide myself
for being incognizant
of the mistaken identity--
of the words.


I am all charred by then.

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