Poetry For Tomorrow Poem by Madhu Kailas

Yesterday is reduced to a midget box
in the calendar (on the wall) .

Tastes like ashtray and
hemmed by sand salt lines of dried summer sweat.

Yesterday now belongs to the dead or
the dead parts of the living; but look:

How greedily tomorrow feeds off it,
because tomorrow is growing.

Growing through the night, and
there is still time to choose to feed it right.

The most beautiful pair of eyes belong to -
Daybreak.

Wide, warm, and tender. They never lie.

Tomorrow I want to look into those eyes
and find new poetry.

Free from ashes and midget boxes.