Ghosts

There are no ghosts, you said, there are no ghosts; only the memories and those we have left behind. Or have been left by by those who moved to another place from where there is no return. Yet, when the stars flicker glittering through my tears and the skies are silent at that moment when…

To the stranger in the dark.

Faces change over time grow up and move away But eyes? Eyes remain the same, windows to all that was. I think I see you cross the road our eyes meeting only for a second to move on, obscurity measured in a single glance. Maybe you too thought I was someone you knew from another…

Old wounds

There was a wound near the ear  That never healed. Each evening I would change the dressing The blood never stopped its flow.  He would not wince, even As I applied disinfectant trying  To be as gentle as possible,  As softly and as far as I could go.  His eyes glistened with pain and tears …

Abandoned.

A little girl sat on the swing set When I took the dog before dawn. I almost missed her quiet face But the moon was still in form Her face was streaked with tears In her hands she clutched a cloth With which she tried to cover her face Fear upon her visage wrought.  I…

Cages

I did not wring its neck, but The blue budgie died by my hand When I opened the gate of the cage,  Where it stayed on the balcony.  A crow pounced on it all at once Ripped it to shreds while I cried  Struck with horror. I was a toddler But I already hated the  cage.  …

I: Itinerant : The roads I take

On my way to work I often shut my eyes and in my mind I am on a road that does not race through a concrete jungle Where there are no buildings or the jostle of cars Where roads wind through mist ridden hills Lined with pine trees that rise above the clouds Curving through…

H: Hazard: This poem

I wrote no poem yesterday,  The words dried up, constricting  My throat, like the onset of a bad cold,  A hacking cough and fever.  Fever is a bad word now,  Being sick is a colossal mistake.  The cousin passed away last week No, it wasn’t the Novel Corona virus She had been suffering, and was…

D: Death-toll: Comfort

There are no opioids here,  No wisdom to be shared. The bitterness of the pill Is directly proportional  To your love for everything  Human. Which is not always  Lovable. Yet there are people  Who hold our hearts Those that we think of and  Wish to keep safe.  Alas, the virus has no country  or calling….

B: Blotchy : Messy

I always hated to stay  Between the lines The lines on the page The lines of my face My colours splashed   Outside the box Messy, they called me,  And messy I stayed.  I had my share of trouble  Straying from the lines The lines that life drew Confining me in walls I will not be…