I'VE poured my WINE

I Keep on Taking Puffs at My Life


I keep on taking puffs at my life:

the smoke hangs round me,


utterly wreathed in smoke,

I see the world through it.

at times, the smoke

gets so thick and dense,

I fail to make out anything

across it.

as I puff at my life,

it smoulders to the fag end,

ash sinking into

the ashtray of Time;

the ash strews the tray,

which keeps it

in her bosom

as the Ganges river

keeps the ashes

of a cremated body.

the smoke round me

and the ash

in the ashtray of Time

are my signs, my symbols,

my words, my poems.

the more I puff at my life,

the more the ashtray

welcomes the ash!


London, 2008 © M. Syre

(Silence of the Piano Sings)

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