Curtained Window Poem by Sumallya Mukhopadhyay

Strings of the lover parted,
His melodies-hanging and gifted.

The bottle kicked,
Off it rolls, to the roadside huts.
They collect some each day;
Selling these.
For their dreams are to be sold.

Yes, the lover sings each night!
His strings attached to their sight.

It rains one afternoon.
Drops and drops of music created.
It wallows in dust but;
Soon hidden.
For lyrics are to be lost.

The lover sings still.
Of bereft songs and his will.

An imaginary world this stays,
Only to be seen by the window.
The curtains drawn now;
Soon Closed.
For some things are best left unseen.

The lover, with his strings;
Sings again, of gifted time and its wings!