Springtime talks of Salvation


wild veronica, sweet cologne, she
comes in a hurry, gasping for breath,
at lunchtime and stays all day long

talking about her three young boys
who last year went to the Middle East
looking happy, flush-faced, excited

her voice heavy as a drunk man’s
she smells roomful of alpine flowers
eyes like deep woods behind the stream

murmuring saplings, her boys are
sweating off in the desert sun
now & then sending emerald lights of hope

quiet, like casket, back home
which she cherishes, keeps it in a box,
wearing out the longstanding hunger

but still the loneliness persists
veiled by the mossy, clammy walls
ripe and red, like the glow of salvation

Twitter @bibek_writes


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