Jay Kasturi Poems
- Maine In Spring I have a memory of a lighthouse in rain; ...
- Reconstruction My last life, ten slices of longitudes east,...
- Times When Times when art is a contrivance, science a ...
- Via Dolorosa She said she never had any say, not in the ...
- Scene2 The philosopher lived by the lightness of his ...
- When All Is Gone The waiting and the impatience, the pining...
- Love He finds himself stretched on the darkest cross, his...
I live in Sparta, a small town in the hilly northwest corner of New Jersey. I came to the US in 1970 and took my graduate degree in Computer Science. Although science was somehow always the area of my academic concentration, poetry was, to me, from the very beginning, somewhat of a passion, a meditation, the only way to project what I find lies too deep for any other form of expression. ... more »
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Maine In Spring
I have a memory of a lighthouse in rain;
the ocean below in cold spray,
the waves among the rocks
and the sky lost in gray.
Not a lobster trap’s marker, not a sail’s cuneiform hint,
not a gull scoring an alliterative scrawl,
just the rain’s affirming constancy.
Between the wipers on the windshield,
Hood’s November written in April’s rain.
That was twenty long years ago,
Maine in spring, in winter’s wake,
a poster, tack-torn at the corner
and fading into all that is lost.