Reflections On Dust Poem by arka chattopadhyay

Reflections On Dust



One fine morning, I started feeling,
I had written nothing!
A dog, entering my window,
And my window allowing the dog to enter!
A leaf rolling off outside
And the outside letting it go!
My room attaining an autonomy,
Out of the dangling bones on the street!
And, now, when I pass by, they knock me down
Into that dark-toed hollow, where,
One other fine morning, I start the feeling-
I am being written down perpetually!

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