By ANANYA GUHA

Is this  the only day

to remember you?

your soft foot falls

your murmuring wind

your arcane depths

hide in our love

we have for cadence

your songs, your death wish

with poets whose membranes

close skies and open hearts

you are there wistfully in

nostalgic repose in infinite

utterances that we recall since

childhood and memories of

reciting a rhyme

now, that we write

we write away a sorrow,

a tear and laughter

with only those words

you carve out in motions

of sheer music

as plethora of ideas

tangle our sanity, wisdom.