Unheard song: A poem 

A lone star shines 

in the evening light 

When clouds undermine 

It goes out of sight 

The poet on this vision writes 

On the flowing river’s banks 

His pen takes fancy’s flight 

in the cool night’s flanks 

The contours of his little naked rhyme 

occluded in the clasped fist of time 

Can a cell’s inmate have a life? 

Oblivion’s baby by circumstance’s midwife 

To silence will the bird belong 

And dance to its own unheard song 

An idea is just a passing shower 

But it still nurtures the beautiful flower