Harbhajan Singh (18 August 1920 – 21 October 2002 / Lumding, Assam / India)

Mother hadn't gone anywhere
From the early morn to the timed out dusk
She had worked herself to exhaustion
Having finished a long day's work
She opened the door to my room
And slept off without much ado
Her breathing danced in rhythm
With the wind playing across the house.

She stood up in slumber
Walked upto the gate
In the street she called out my name
Far away, somewhere, faraway, lost in the crowds
I couldn't hear my own voice
How could I hear hers?

Mother hadn't slept off fully
She would hear the footsteps of my return
Like the lonely passenger
On a foundered ship
Still alive
And in the basement of the foundered ship
Looking for his little children
Calling out their names
Calling out.