Haze and Mist

Parting  i s a gift. If part   You must  Like ashes   and dust Then part  u nbroken. It is a n Art. ** Funerals are Those long   rituals.  The needless drama Only to drop a   body  to  a pit's  h ungry  stones,  some skin, some bones.  ** And let's now   come to you   and I.  We  drifted  a part like  p aper boats i n puddles   dried in sudden sun   after  a very good monsoon .

This Quarter town And half a village Cannot be my own  But its fusty Insular air helps me  Dream better.  Pity and dignity The twin crow Mascots  On every door Hung below A humdrum stretch Of lackluster sky. Only so  this Quarter town and half a village Cannot be my own

A picture Elephant Even smaller Than a hopper Then was huge- When I was Small And I saw A real beast In my youth As it whipped Dreamily- Its eyes Two pools Of jungle-pain- Its leafy food Against Its pillar-legs. My thoughts Were then About the taming Of big beasts. I saw the other Day In mirror My eyes A forest anguish Brimming Just besides The skin Around'em Sun cracked With fifty years Of wrestling With life And it Resembled The pachyderm.