Yesterday I stalked my sigh till the end of the shore.

Borrowed the pattern as like an autumn dew

Sneaks the lashes of the couch grasses.
Like a crumble of a stone glides deep down in a pond,

Sibilant burst out from the violence, breaking

The array of slick algae, peeling the skin of water off.
When crossing a filling station near

the marine drive road, I met a sigh

once was mine, a splintered face.
Waiting since I left behind. It led me to

An Egyptian Tamarisk tree where it bridles at night.

En route I came across a groan of my father
Dead long ago, turning turtle on beach sands, busking

In midsummer blues. Showed me the catalogue

Of sorrows it lived in this meddling world. Told me
If our groans cannot swing their moods

With the shadows of dangling leaves on the waves,

Our sighs turn into whispers making buzz in our hearts.