Sunday, September 10, 2017

Confession 12 (The moon laments)

The moon laments and questions her absence
Sheds a tear and write a poetry about,
I sit looking through my window pane
How the clouds pass by, the days along.

The busy office hours and the crowded rails
The hustle bustle of the noisy city streets,
I search across the pool of men and women
And I hear you singing a jazz for me.

©Chandrajit Mitra