CIRCLE

           

     Craning your neck

     and straining your eyes

     You wait for dawn.

     The interval of leaves

     On every branch of your home side tree

     Is permeated

     By streaks of sun fire.

     They blind you.

     A deafening silence

     yearns to merge

     into the tranquil commotion

     of the day ahead.

     The strings of sitar

     cuddle up in sleep

     making room for wheels

     to stage the show.

     Soiled legs and sordid hands

     exchange an embrace.

     You stir up smoke

     while shaking hands.

     You nurture your curt smile

     during appreciation.

     Files heaped up,

     doors locked,

     shutters pulled down.

     You scissor through

     the grey city

     back to your den.

     You throw down

     on the stale sheet of bed.

     Death's offspring looming large

     to grasp you in,

     and so are you

     longing to be consummated.

     The sweet blasphemy

     of bitter sleeplessness

     draw you

     to open the panes

     and count the stars

     till daybreak.

     Craning your neck

     and straining your eyes

     You wait for dawn.