a spring evening

spring evenings are cold like the ghostly feeling left after you’ve taken your hand back from my hand. they’re as if a thing gone amiss, a loss that can’t be mapped or measured in its tragedy. the spring skies are as violet as the mark you left on my neck, painful and gratifying at once. as i walk the path towards home, i pick a tattered leaf and place it as a keepsake in my thoughts. i have a few more steps to go.

the spring moon appears —
a worm-eaten leaf still clings
to the old peepal

© Anmol Arora

For Season Your Poetry Part II at WRT
Also read a dawn song and day-breaking

12 thoughts on “a spring evening

  1. You have captured the feeling so well, walking home alone, missing the loved one, the hand bereft of the other’s hand. I love the bookmarking your thoughts with a leaf. Wonderfully done!


  2. Jim says:

    Nice job with the prose part, elegant and yet homey. The Haiku was fun, I did a double take with the “old peepal .”


  3. I really like how you set this poem off by the coldness left by another’s absence. That sets the tone well for the rest of the poem, and I like how the haiku is a transition to the moon guiding the lonely narrator homeward. Well done and viva la!


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