Universe Poem by Taposh Chakravorty

The first thing I do in winter mornings
is to wear woolen socks and cap;
in summer, a cold bath.
My mother is dead,
and also my daughter.
As I face the cold and the heat
I find these things have changed,
become enormously large,
as if these are of another planet.
I am an old man now; no longer
a cherished child of the universe.

And the universe is itself raw yet,
barely born;
doesn`t know how to handle things.