In A Strange City 

Traveling jettisons time.
Today, if it’s a Sunday, opens
possibilities of another month.

Unsettled, you whisper, “Has it
ended already?” This may begin 
another month, but the rain of yestreen
seems like a twin of today’s rain.

This city’s occupants prefer soaking 
in the humid showers over carrying 
umbrellas. An umbrella passes the pane
as if challenging your thoughts.

You see the tip. Perhaps the wind
carries it, not a human, to keep it 
relevant. Time means nothing in 
a city you haven’t scattered your childhood.

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Kushal Poddar
Picture Nick Victor

 

Kushal Poddar lives in Kolkata, India
amazon.com/author/kushalpoddar_thepoet
Author Facebook- https://www.facebook.com/KushalTheWriter/ 
Twitter- https://twitter.com/Kushalpoe

 

 

 

 

 

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