He Poem by Sasikumar Thazhumpal

That night
enveloped with
fragile moon light
He came to my camp
where I hardly slept
in a boiling jar
of fever.

Half clothed
calm but assertive
He sat beside my camp cot
held my hands together
and
smiled.

Who?
I asked
He showed his visiting card with
nothing printed on it.

And gently touched my forehead
with those bigger
very bigger fingers.

I felt like a sparrow
plunging into deep
layers of shadows and silence
and instantly became blind.

Out side my camp
moon and those stars
suddenly rejuvenated
and started
staring through
my window glass.