Some thunder breaks an unknown nightmare at dawn.
The clouds mingle with the fading darkness.
Some colourless images drip continuously from the little rift of the window.
I hear a voice of a radio
That persists in my skull.
Some second persona grows within me
Trying to find an ancient channel that I lost in my childhood.
When the radio changes its tune with the slightest touch in its radar,
Memories blend with its vague words
And create the image of a forgotten story-telling old man
Whose stories were the shelter of my fancies.
The signs of the wave’s scale reminds of bipolar existence
Then suddenly I feel like descending through the winding stair to the darkness of sleep.
Illustration Nick Victor
Jyotirmoy Sil is a dilettante poet. Presently he is an Assistant Professor of English in Malda College, West Bengal. A few of his poems have been published in Muse India journal, Madras Courier and Spillwords.