The Room Poem
This room remaining silent is a poem
Garimella on the wall, behind the window panes
heads of the swaying flower plants
Curtain hanging just free
Spring door standing with folded hands
Clock running lamely
Ventilator glasses hanging slant
Ceiling fan running with two minds whether or not
to
Empty chair, water bottle
National flag hanging on a small stand
Old calendar that forgot time
Two
bureaus like pregnant women
A towel next to the sink, a soap cake
Burning electric lamp long
What
else would be there in a room
In
spite of all this in the room
There
has to be a person
With a person the room turns into a live river
Otherwise
It would be a dead coffee cup
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