Footnote

Neruda’s songs

Fill

Your ankles

            The waves in the seashells

            Die

            Under heavy boots

            Descending from

            Ghost trains

Fish the fading sounds

Of your lost tongue

In the net of blue mist

Pocket a few syllables

And scatter them

On tufts of grass

                        Growing near rusted

                        Rail tracks

                        Separated by

                        Sand of old voices

A handful of glittering granules

Make a glossary

That the wind will

Carry as rose scents

                                    To the frozen faces

                                                At

                                                    Lal Chowk…