Maturity

a poem by Abbas Panakkal

A beard,
an awakening to blackness,
bloomed with a mushroom.

The matured black beckoned,
beauty walked towards the mushroom.
A small hair kept under the right
sleeve flirted and offered a cocktail mood.

City cobbler smeared
black doe on the dusty curls.
Saviour saliva served the mushroom soup.

The beard,
along with boiling bubbles,
waited for a better season
of thunder and lightning.