You who breeze through it like the cold,
How do you hear the sweep of the broom
In winter’s silence, in the day’s afterglow?
How do you find the changeling stuck
Strangely to the solace of sparrows
Planning their nests over a window
With a view of the neighbor’s yellow wall?
The world before it is a wall of the mind
Snowing in the books scattered on a bed –
A glimpse of the sky afloat with kites
Delays the smoke and speech of the night.
Like a cat immersed in a candle flame,
My arms shall cradle another departure,
My lips surrender another song.
3:58 am, Tuesday, 29 December 2009