Friday, April 15, 2016

Ananya S. Guha- A Poem

Stalking shadows
I cross
every evening is a failure
the same hopes and conversation
on desultory lines, the woman
selling vegetables with pleading
look, knocks at the door
but the heart is cumbersome
it does not melt
are there enough reasons to be
the angry brigand, measuring time
in cups of tea and granules of dust
the day ends, the book opens with
fluttering pages, there is little time
to sleep. Her image pleading for
vegetables to be bought now, is
a schizoid dream.

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