[Issue 12 / 1 Feb 15]
only the graves remain.
Trees rest on walls
tired of growing.
Breeze limps through its branches like an injured bird.
I recognize the faces
that have changed
but forget those that haven't.
Sometimes I wing my way to its waiting bosom
even though really, I walk.
Reach its soil and bury the roses no longer in bloom.
Then, leaning against the dusty pigeon tower
amidst reborn skies and
abandoned corners, I whisper to its winds:
No, your wheat has not ripened in vain
nor your sun failed to warm my blood
I am cold only because of the shadows in your old eyes.
Vinita Agrawal, author of Words Not Spoken, is a Mumbai based, award winning poet and writer. Her poems have appeared in Asiancha, Constellations, The Fox Chase Review, Pea River Journal, Open Road Review, Stockholm Literary Review, Poetry Pacific among others. She was nominated for the Best of the Net Awards 2011, awarded first prize in the Wordweavers Contest 2014, commendation prize in the All India Poetry Competition 2014 and won the 2014 Hour of Writes Contest twice. She can be reached atwww.vinitawords.com