Nyct-Ophelia

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The garage floor strewn !
Gone
Nuts! Bolts! Screws – chips of iron
Some red hot, some cold
Some other tepid numb
Words like twisted nest – too dumb
For wise ears – for dumb ones
Too wise – scattered scraps
Of brains and trains of thoughts
Whistling by – until midnight
Gags up imbecile garbles
In my window – silence tiptoes
Carefully avoiding missteps
On strewn sooty charcoal pies – eyes
Distilling remembrance – ash, a dash of gold
The mind floor – smells like petrichor

© All Rights belong to Nivedita Dey, 2016

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