Sunil Sharma

Every evening
I swim and sink
and then resurface
gasping for breath

dying/resurrecting
like the ceaseless
day-night cycle
clinical, precise
repeating like
the Camus-discovered
Sisyphus in his labors


trying to find hope
in a hopeless place
might sound madness
for the successful

but that is most heroic
for some ordinary guys---
locating a flower in an arid
Gulag of mind and space
littered with dead roses.