o' where are the shudders of spine
brought by the cold air
you are robbed by time, may be
the endearing curiosity of a child,
at the edge of the star, someone plays flute,
peebles left at shore by flowing water,
herds of cows coming back to calves at dusk
amidst all, bereaved you breathe
and in you vibrates the unlaid poem.

subodh pandey

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/displacement-7/