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A FEW CLOUDED LINES
After crossing a few clouded lines,
Poetry of everyday is a little more
Sunny today.
The train comes to a slow stop to
The station of the night. Waiting is
Endless, still.
Poetry is smiling, though. Rhymes
At the last words are missing. Yet
Poetry is happy.
This is how Time walks. Without
Rhyming. Plain prose. Poetry loves
To hide Poetry.
:
© DEBOTOSH MITRA
Poetry of everyday is a little more
Sunny today.
The train comes to a slow stop to
The station of the night. Waiting is
Endless, still.
Poetry is smiling, though. Rhymes
At the last words are missing. Yet
Poetry is happy.
This is how Time walks. Without
Rhyming. Plain prose. Poetry loves
To hide Poetry.
:
© DEBOTOSH MITRA
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