Pheasants in the dark forest
Like the sky kissing dusk grey.
All brooding,
Brooding they were.
I saw many people
Identical in groups,
on their own pilgrimage.

In town there was a chase game.
Where one had to chase the other.
They were running around in circles.
People gathered and watched.
They thought the man being chased was dead.
And the man himself feared that he was dead.
As the bell fades into the crowd
the game ended.
'It is heartbreaking to see anyone run in circles'
They commented.
Like a pot of dead fish on their backs,
The moon was up glowing over the road.
People left.




Copyright 2006 Roshan Tulachan