Living In Our Quarters Poem by Procyon Mukherjee

Now I will tell you

The story of the tapered falcon

And the ruse that traveled some seas



The rusty salt left them smelling

In the waves and the wind tore their wings

Of habit and musings



I was listening to the credo of idle whisper

When the long wipers of the sharp beaks

Left me rushing for safely cavity



The earth is small and the seas smaller

As the space is never enough

For them to soar as they leap



Our ground looks big, the homes bigger

From the desk to the cot

Brisking our living, in our quarters