written by Manushyaputhiran


— Manushyaputhiran

In a house
where children were
and are now no more,

again and again
the two broken wheels
of a toy car.


The doors of the house next door
the one with the new tenants
remain constantly shut.

Children come and go
study noiselessly
live noiselessly.

Adults don't shout
vessels don't clatter
no one calls out
to anyone by name
the dust from the road
never penetrates the interior.

The Christmas star
at the entrance
hangs ravaged
by the wind.

lock that house
so the wildbush of loneliness
may grow unchecked again.

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