Post Script to an accident

A narrow pencil
On your colorful walls
Sketching lines
Not so correct, direct or sharp

You lived and
Died like a butterfly
Pinned to a white board

My eyes burned
Seeing your daughter
Drawing on the wall
You must have restricted

A pencil intruding your
Perimeters
Even before you are some
Smoke or ash

Last midnight
A hump on the road
Corrected many restraints
*

Herald of Absences

For Dom Moraes



I saw him sitting on a whale
Herald of absences

Wearing the mask of an old man
The boy
Typed his life with one finger

I met him last on a sea shore
Surrounded by crabs
Writing
The length of his evening