Friday, 28 March 2014

Smoke shadow

There’s no movement, except a thread
of smoke throws a feathered shadow
on the far wall, electric’s gone dead,
the candle stands stock still, only its burning head
trembles a little within its diffuse halo.

The props for small talk, tables, chairs, party hats;
elbows off please, smiles on, preoccupied -
even smoke has shadows! how to trump that?
entire months fallen domino-flat
as the years windmill from side to side.


  1. The truth is, you do write poems so beautifully. Loved this one again.


  2. The way you've described the smoke, I could picture myself sitting on a table with a party and cake and adults scolding kids. Someone has perhaps gone to check the lights? While the candle flickers on the table.
    Beautiful Nilanjana :)

    1. Maybe the fuse, maybe a power cut. Have to wait and see :)