Ferryman merryman

Shrouded in misty mystery,

Upstream in the morning

And downstream at sundown

Sullen sounds of bamboo

As they drove through grey green waters

Like ripplers of poor silk

Feasted with trees and sky

Carrying passengers

Under the arched coconut trees

Music like smell, vessels

Of golden memories

Have you been at this, since

The beginning of time and space

Ferrying the first men

Across the seven seas

Your face wrinkled and old,

Like old moths fluttering their wings

At mercy of frog's tongue

Ferryman- at death's door

Swansong of ours- silent,

As radio sings, merryman

Lipsyncs and the rot wood

Smells of mixed sleep and awe

Ferryman merryman

Shrouded in misty mystery,

Upstream in the morning

Not downstream at sundown

~Ajay
Aug 2017