Still, at a busy rail station <br />In the moving crowd <br />I get, I discover <br />The face of my departed lover. <br /> <br />Occasionally and suddenly <br />I get her face, lips, <br />Eyes, ear, throat or shape. <br />Still I frighten at different stations. <br /> <br />Everyday I teach myself <br />How to live by head and not by heart. <br />I tell myself that two plus two <br />Makes four and not five or three. <br />But still I discover in the crowd <br />The face of my departed lover. <br /> <br />My tears condensed and became pearl <br />I spend vigil night with sickle shaped moon. <br />With ticking of watch <br />With the hooting of owl <br />Blood fall down from my heart. <br />I still discover the face of my departed lover.<br /><br />Sudipta Biswas<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/face-of-my-departed-lover/
