Umbrella

by Nirlipto

Once more
Let me tell you this

I am so tired of this rain.

Shards of sky
Assault the grass—
Red roofs of those villas
Leer at the shadows
Lingering over their slopes.

A man walks by,
His black and white umbrella
Cast as a painted toad-skin.

I found a tunnel through my bed once.
We journeyed through it,
Kneading our tormented sleep
Into a quiet radiance.

The rain may stop a few steps short
Of pattering at our panes,
We may wait, wonder
Why it is that it rained so much,
Why we had journeyed
Into that disfigured horizon
Forgetting those silvery rings
On the patient leaves
Circling our minds.