Half-full inkpot: a poem by Asif Sultan

Half full Inkpot

02-01-2021

Smudges spread

on the leaf of life

Of the upset half inkpot.

On the ugly leaf my sight does perch

And flies to the half-full inkpot:

The hue of black clung bare glass, 

Dribles to the still ink of dark

"Can pen down I the loftiness?"

This dirt does raise a cry. 

My eyes do fall  

In loafing sport:

See this, see that:

A specked leaf

Or the half-full ink-pot.

~Asif Sultan