Prabhakar Subramaniam

Margazhi - Poem by Prabhakar Subramaniam

You can hear

The drip of time

From the quartz clock

Only on a night like this

When it is so cold

You cannot leave the fan on

And muffle the noises

From the house and street;

Here comes the watch

Blowing his whistle

Banging the gates

Angry dogs in his wake

Like the ghosts

That sometimes keep you awake,

You don't mind

Losing some sleep

If you can get to watch

The mist paint halos

Around the saffron lamps

In the year's coldest month

Beloved of the God

Beloved of the Kuselas

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Poem Submitted: Sunday, August 19, 2012

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