Poetry

Unslept- 
hangman, flees from the noose. 
The day had come to execute. 
A thought had become a fear 
but fear was not a thought. 
 
Naked in the moon 
a wolf wants move of something 
leaning on the hills of thirst, 
bitten by the views of cemetery. 
 
The landscape 
was changing. You want to cover your head 
with a topi, standing on the edge 
of a lake before you are drowned 
under the burning eyelids. 
 
A Buddha smiles from 
the shelf. How can you fill the emptiness 
of a bowl, which has 
hundred holes?