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IN THE PINK OF CONDITION (A sonnet)

Summer outside, and still chilling inside.

Sometimes I feel the blue as icing sky,

But if I watch the lines drawn by the tide

In ripples and in shivers I rely.

 

The weariness of limbs and of the mind

- symptoms are blazing sun and fading grass -

I cannot bear: the page is turning blind,

And sand is spilling out from the hourglass.

 

And even if I run, the world stands still

Arrhythmically breathing, harsh and rough.

I would not dare to ask a fresh refill:

I have to make it do, oddly enough.

 

In the pink of condition, the season looks so fair:

When everything is motionless, you crumble while you stare.

 

(Previous version of the last couplet:

"In the pink of condition, the season looks so pale:

When everything is motionless, you can’t outrun the snail.")

 

(Sonnet by SiRiChandra)

  

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Uploaded on June 16, 2009