Silences
This brooding silence,
echo of a despondence
that our road ends here.
Renovation
Mason breaking tiles,
shrouded in a dusty haze
I watch and resist
an immaterial grief
rising from the detritus.
Linger
In the school lobby
I listen, till she completes
Her swimming lesson;
She was born for the water
I, to linger in daydream.
Burnt Waters
The river,
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There is a curious phenomenon of how the order of the poems changes their impact : the sounds from Renovation (the masons breaking tiles) and the swimming pool remained in my mind as I read the next two poems...Just a thought to ponder on as you experiment with your writing.
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Just posted these together as I am lazy to post each one separately. :)
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