The Vanishing Act, Magician
(In memory of the magician Uday Shankar Saha)
The white mice from his handkerchief
shivers with the freedom, as if
they remember being nonexistent.
The flash, smoke and mirrors,
the stage waits for the trick,
and we think we know the punchlines
beforehand. One little father
holds the hand of his big son,
ready to leave the proceedings.
The son looks at one mice near his feet.
The faint noise is a sight now. A sleight of fate,
a magic rolls on, the magician, gone, exists
as the stage, audience waiting and leaving,
boxes and handkerchiefs, saw and mice.
Mourning For a Running Mate
(In memory of Revati Gore )
The other day
song birds flew
free above the cityscape,
and we recall that
more than anything they
ever sang; oh yes,
we recall you, my friend,
a fellow runner preparing
for the marathon in the weekend.
on the jokes
never cracked. The best of the laughs.
We cannot remember
how you withered;
no way, you quit a run
run for no medal,
that flight of the birds
above the city cage.