Thoughts from a November morning, a few years ago

November Rain. (November 13, 2009)


A window opens

just a crack.

This morning it lets in the mist.

It’s wooden frame


an impressionists landscape.

A branch of Mexican Floss

reaches through it

For a swollen sky.


This is Dawn’s tantalizing


Raindrops sparkle

like diamonds on the pink

Even in this grey light.
From somewhere in the distance, a voice.

Raga Todi.

Vilambit khayal, teen taal.

heavy, deep.

Even music can be silent

Like daybreak’s noise.

Odd thought.


Winter’s solitude

Blankets the mind.



Writes over


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