Ashok Niyogi Poet Blank verse

Alone

This is as philosophical
As keeping the count, 
Binoculars trained
For a whale 
That will never spout,
This is not the season,
Hamlet knew.

The Pilgrim knew,
As did the Wife of Bath,
This is discovery,
A poem on the Underground
By Sylvia Plath.

This is the season of butchery,
Bullfights without rules,
Lions shot with a precision rifle,
Selective breeding
On Noah’s ark.

This is as dark as it gets
In a daylight forest,
As stark
As one isolated note 
From an aria,
As lonesome as one straggler goose,
Squawking, ‘take me along’.

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