Gorvachove, Keonjhar, 16 September 2024
The wind-swept day
Gray, rain-scented,
Went by incomplete:
Like a poet forgot to put–
A line in a poem.
You are not here.
That should explain:
Why this clear night–
Star-crusted, dazzling,
Misses the North Star.
Come to me–
Like a stunning sunset,
After a storm;
Like unbroken silence–
In the clamour of the world.
