Smita Tewari      

Quicksilver

Trees, their shadows, quiet as sunset, and dreams,
blowing in the breeze, with paused breath, I sense
silence around me, where dawn and dusk do not end,
but merely become two points merging day and night.

And, I like  mercury , quicksilver running through fingers,
rise and fall through moments  of time, on safe edges of
space, in our given life, of harmony passing in the distance,
as I stroll in the hours following all memories to their end.