Thursday, April 2, 2015

From the tram-tracks

A thousand nights
Unfeeling the weight
of a thousand years
that lay on Her lover.

A crane flies along the skyline
Where steeltowers meander
Where Orion hunts no more.

The lepers are gone
From the hydrants.
The forlorn Doel whistles in vain
at constellations smothered by smog,
at banished Shamas
at screeching Starlings.

Can I be the sand
on his tired feet
Seathing saline hands
scraping his being?

My beloved’s face
was carved in lines
not of Sravasti.

The engine roars,
vibrating wings
a memory.
We totter along
through owling woods
strewing entrails
along the asphalt.

Halfway (to Namkhana)
She turns to me
“My name is Arunima Sanyal
Were you looking for me?”