I wait for you

while the sun seeps out of tea bags

in backdrop of overnight porcelain

retrieved from cold memories.

On cobblestones, patterned iron dazzles white.

They sit with prim backs

like austere monks

in deep contemplation of laced tablecloths

switched out of yesterday’s stains.

I wait for myself as much

to arrive as a mendicant at your soul.

Tilt a hat, or pull an overcoat

tighter across my chest, shuffling.

I take a seat next to the flower box –

an impressionist painting

against a bright cerulean wall,

now coming alive with faint, virgin shadows.

Above, ivory windows

lead me into centuries of famished love.

So, here we are

with empty laps and vacant looks,

accompanied by chairs in attendance.

Warmed by waft of fresh croissant

and troll of autumn leaves

doodling in empty streets

and etching clear glass walls

rising between us and ceased music.

Winter approaches grey and chilled.

Conference of black umbrellas in a cemetery –

in a somber conversation with the dead.

Listen hard to the interstices of the cobblestones:

It is not one-sided.

I reach for my coat pocket

to rummage for hope.

Maybe resurrection.

---

Madhu Kailas is the pen name of Kingshuk Basu. He is a native of Kolkata, India and has lived, worked and studied in various places in India and USA. He enjoys poetry, and writes regularly. He is the author of ‘The Birds Fly in Silence and Other Poems’, a collection of 57 poems published by Writers Workshop Kolkata. He has been published in journals like Indian Literature, Dragon Poet Review, The Literary Review, New Mexico Review.