Still life 1

Half-asleep
The sun from the east
from brown, blue sky
moving the curtain of window
Enters the room
And slowly draws the cane chair
Near the table -
The cup of moon has taken coffee,
Sugarless.
From the small pond of cup
An ant is drowning struggling to come out.
The strong winds
Flip the yellow pages of diaries.
The pencil draws the pictures of mirages,
The unripe dreams dreamt in unripe sleep.
The birds sit on the trees of meanings
On the long dark roads rise
The thorns of noises.


From ‘Aur’