Atri Mazumder

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All this time, I let the fools
Listen to me.

And, I was fooled again:
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Translucent horizon,
Touching the colors:
Pale, yet conspicuous.
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"And I
Am the arrow
The dew that flies.
Suicidal…"
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You trusted the mist,
All the answers fell through,
A vague coherence.
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Something disappeared,
From the appearance
Of the lane:
Bending the memories
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An under construction building:
Envied by the neighbours.

A window cleaner:
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In between the coincidences,
There are some incidents
Which never coincide.
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