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| Image| Josue Velaquez |
After Vivaldi
The last note, born orphan, falls
from the violin and loses its way
in the thick red carpet. It knows
the value of mutism soon.
'The Four Seasons' has ended.
The violinist, still in trance, breathes hard
and stares at us, but we're nothing
more than a broad stroke speckled
with shades and values of the dark.
Almost near dawn she finds herself alone
in her pittance of a balcony veiled in smog.
Sky, black, claps. Too late, there won't be
time for an encore. Sky claps. Rain follows.
She bows, and then remembers that note
left in the dim auditorium. It doesn't know
what to do in front of the emptiness.
© Kushal Poddar
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| Kushal Poddar |
Kushal Poddar has authored ten books, the latest being A White Can For The Blind Lane, and his works have been translated into twelve languages. He is a co-editor for Outlook Magazine and the editor of Words Surfacing. He does illustrations and sketches for various magazines.
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