Editor's Choice
Theme: Death

A Stone Melts

The courtyard is full 
cluttered with sentiments,
sighs and plastic chairs. 
He enters the house 
with a travel bag.  
The soil on which
he took his first step 
holding her hands 
is to get burdened
with her bones’ weight. 
Night stands triumphant
on the gloomy carcass of the day.
Wind biting his ears
brings the smell of death,
the smell that used to permeate   
during her everyday worship.  
Upon the ledge of his shoulders
rest two hands softly. He looks back. 
Eyes with the cold stare of mountains
never seen with moisture, have in them 
the sorrow of a lifetime; 
waiting to melt down.


More By  :  Pankajam K

Views: 1414     Comments: 0

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