Nostalgia in the Night
©April 12th, 2018
By Vijaya Sundaram
A fox ran across the road.
The streetlights blinked in surprise.
Then, collectively releasing a sigh,
Our cars drove on, relieved
That the fox had made its crossing.
Night speaks to me in visions
And visions are full of shadows and light,
Like a shy fox, the truth emerges
From behind a fence, waiting to pounce.
I look behind me, as I go into the night.
I look back, and see all that I left behind,
And I’m tempted to turn around.
I see vast arcs of sunrises and sunsets,
A life lived far away, brought suddenly close
In a song my mother used to sing,
A song that my Tamil culture treasured.
A song that speaks of a passing breeze
Bringing music in its wake, the song
Of a dark God, playing his flute,
Music that makes stars shy,
A song that makes stones melt,
And dead trees to come to life.
I look back, and catch the brightness
Of passing scenes from the past.
I am vigilant, though. Looking back can kill.
Perhaps, I should sleep, and dream
Of foxes slipping silently into the night,
And move forward into a morrow that awaits.
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