Touching Poem by umashankar manthravadi

touching
almost as if
there was all the time in the world
each dropp individually
with fire after the rain -

only a moment
in the bare leaflessness
one small chink between the grey and the black

looking out into darkness
reflected in the glass enclosing
a bright lit room -

a smoke filled face
curling blue and black
fire no longer clutching
at the guttering mouth

- unsteady instant
shaken loose
from a process of thought

touching
almost as if
there was all the time in the world

- March 10,1979