i have got a morning
that doesn’t come too often —
the wakefulness of eyes looks becoming
on my face, the arcs of hyacinth on my care-
worn cheeks, the fissures of words at the corner
of my lips, tricks of a thick smile, teeth like
scissors that cut through the nights of des-
pair, all look becoming on my ninety-
days of seclusion, i do not dream a dream,
but i have got a morning by my side
today.
.
© Anmol Arora
Day 28
(Inter)National Poetry Month
Clicked a few hours back when I was on the bus… did not sleep a minute. Blurry because of the bus tremors.
coursing through the cities,
glorified by the lights that gleam
through the lustrous layers of fog,
dense with the sleeping breaths,
and awake, feeling its presence
from within the windows shut,
counting the seconds till we can,
because that is all we got to do,
.
we are the comrades of the night,
warm to know the other one is there,
strung with the same wakefulness,
even if distant, even if it wouldn’t last,
while I pass through these cities, towns,
half sitting, lying, on the sleeper berth,
chewing a sapless gum, to count up
their comforting numbers in my head
HA's Place 