Lost Shadow

a beggar plays with a damp firecracker
a brown cat drinks the spilled
milk on the pavement,
fading sounds of the street singer’s last
tongue tap the window glass.

sparrows collect a few rice-grains
and scatter them on the yellow grass,
the ice cream vendor’s voice
fills the wrinkles of the slum child,
the wind blows dry leaves.

all this shape the expiring city
of my frozen childhood,
my shadow burns and burns
in sunlight and knows that it has
to return where it comes from.