Guest guest Posted October 11, 2004 Report Share Posted October 11, 2004 White Tombstones by Sankha Ghosh That night as I turned homewards, in the heart of the city scores and scores of nameless tombstones broke through the mist; at first they seemed to be rows and rows of kneeling nuns,---unmoving, crystallised in prayer; in the winter breeze the world trembled guilt-laden to the fragrance of the eucalyptus; but then the mist became a wall, prayer turned to reproach, of those white stones, smooth, epitaphless; as I turned homewards loving kindness Ninna Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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