Shiva’s giant trident
at Pasupatinath still wet,
a monkey, with child clinging
fast and dry to the belly,
eyes the pilgrim’s steps,
starts, reconsiders, decides
quickly for which tree
she is to run.
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Shortlisted for the Faulkner-Wisdom Poetry Prize
shakemyheadhollow 
I many like your blog. A pleasure to come stroll on your pages. A nice discovery. I will come back to visit you. Do not hesitate to visit my universe. See you soon.
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