Time Stretches Poem by BASAB CHAUDHURI

Time stretches within time -
it stretches -
until an hour becomes a day,
and morning slowly unwinds into afternoon.

The daily commerce of sparrows and doves
fills my stagnant space.

The buyer of old newspapers reminds me
of the irrelevance of news.
The vendor of plastic buckets -
a quiet testament
to time's plasticity.

The cuckoo sings.
Its voice, unchanged for millennia.

My heart swells with nostalgia,
with melancholy.

The long road dissolves into a straight line -
and where does the line go from there?

Time stretches within time
into distant memories,
into oblivion.