Similitude

On the blank blue-grey page 
waves write another sentence 
and after one moment’s deliberation 
adds another and another, and I 
realise – nothing has ever been empty. 
I didn’t read the texts, had 
sleep’s visor over my eyes.

The prints – I read – provide evidence 
that you have left, been leaving 
between winks. Your feet trampled
the strange light across the sand.
I have nothing new to write on the water
or the sand. An echoing eagle reminds 
me – that is the pith of writing with those.
So I repeat. So I do so in 
an endless uniformity.

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Kushal Poddar
Picture Nick Victor

Kushal Poddar lives in Kolkata, India
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Twitter- https://twitter.com/Kushalpoe

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