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Counting loss

We need not trace fingers in sand grains
To count stars that flickered for counting.

We feel exempted from the star counting
Like the soldiers-to -be with lesser chests .

Chests heaved with an unnecessary pride
As night climbed over heads under trees

With stars above them ,in danger of falling.
We have lost count of their broken pieces,

That have turned fireflies in old counting.
We lie under a dark cloth of promontory

Thinking of several stars lost to the night.
There is nobody to count them this night.

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Sunset moment

Before dark the bridge may be asked to span
Vast distance, unaided by supporting pillars
Only by a sun going , going and gone below.

A slightly ocher and yellow thing hangs there
To somewhat disappointment but the curve !
There is surely a woman’s curve ,of the river

At eye’s end view with another bridge taking
The horizon’s place, in many words and now
There is a click in your throat and sun gone.

Where is the bridge light of your old waters
In the shimmer of sun’s smooth dalliances
With tree shadows tingling breezed ripples?

Come other day, other dusk,with pure light
In the camera’s eyes and heart closely held
In throat , love gathered in wondering eyes .

 

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Dialogue of walk

The sun  climbs a neighbor’s coconut
It is time for a  long dialogue of walk

Everything is so  clear and so well cut.
Neighbor ‘s  tiny  moonlight’s flowers

Had done nighttime duty of fragrance.
They are now withered smiles on road.

The parijata tree had shed its flowers
On the earth , their  feet up in the air.