Death stands at a distance
all day all night, smiling, unblinking,
like that picture under the staircase.
The whimsical moon shot past me
like an arrow, in a flux
I saw it as a mirror
revealing myself to me.
I am an Indian poet in English!
How long shall I wear this elegant
garland? Can I even put it down?
After you left
only after you left
I could guess
that your shadow spreads