Treasure Island

Pradip Chattopadhyay

(28.01.1961 / Kolkata)

Night Witch


Enslaved in her dark waves
I ride the night.
In this journey in starlight
I pass by the witch flying on her broom,
Her eyes not vengeful but wear weary gloom,
For though she’s forever going away from earth
Pines for a home and hearth,
While I disintegrate into comets
Dreaming one day to find my way back to the sun.
Absurdly wondrous my night trek
In piercing moonlight towards stars.

As in the endless firmament I rush,
Sleeplessness seems no more a curse.

Submitted: Monday, July 29, 2013
Edited: Monday, July 29, 2013

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  • Anamika Jalan (7/29/2013 6:14:00 AM)

    MILL-DOORS

    YOU never come back.
    I say good-by when I see you going in the doors,
    The hopeless open doors that call and wait
    And take you then for- how many cents a day?
    How many cents for the sleepy eyes and fingers?

    I say good-by because I know they tap your wrists,
    In the dark, in the silence, day by day,
    And all the blood of you drop by drop,
    And you are old before you are young.
    You never come back. (Report) Reply

Read all 1 comments »

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