Moon Dead Poem by BASAB CHAUDHURI

Once -
I carried the moon in my pocket
Long back and I don't remember
the date and time,
but I carried and I walked
I felt the curvature and the crevices -
They are deep down in my memory.

And then, with time, the moon
went up and up, at a distance -
I see, but can't feel the texture.
The moon left me alone
In the kingdom of knowledge
Ever expanding into intelligence -
Artificial.

In a pool of blood, my innocence
Has been lying -
Dead in cold comfort.