Sunday, June 06, 2010

The Slowness of Summer

in Milibhagat with Mradul

A warm unforgiving rain falls upon us all
Agitated fingers rest on a crumbling wall
A singular light bulb on the lonely terrace
and a cupboard filled with talking mothballs.

Last year I saw some fireflies in a dream
Pregnant with moonlight
Only an unheeded light bulb knows
The unbearable being-ness of light

Staring at the slowness of summer
And deciphering it's colour
Fingers slowly turn into a fist
And weary feet move subconsciously

Mincing dreams carefully
To accommodate them in paltry pockets
I turn my eyes to the dark sky
And fill them with rain water

1 comment:

off roady said...

summer was never this special