If you cannot win today

still no sign of clouds

at exactly fifteen past nine
a speck of sun filters its way through
an unclear pane
glorifying a minute portion
of the opposite wall

the umbra 
third eye of an unseen goddess
stays so for fifteen minutes more 
making the clown in the clock face smile
sardonic

then my door knob rattles
as a goods train passes by 

one naked lizard
the sole spectator of each episode
returns to its hunt 

finally the clown sermonizes
you cannot win your prize today

another day drops between
summer and monsoon