Ancient Wound

 
The white blanket of winter’s fog
wraps around,
Perhaps someone is approaching,
but I’ll never know.
 
The listless heap of crushed leaves
spans out in the morning,
skeletal humans walk by.
A tiny bird hums,
the frangipani’s laughter stays
like a grand fiasco.
 
The soundless night grips history
and geography in both hands,
the veiled people begin to sing names
to be butchered soon.
 
Blood drips into the river’s mouth,
bringing to my toes,
I rip open an ancient wound,
time pauses between frowns and smiles

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Gopal Lahiri
Picture Nick Victor
 
@gopallahiri
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Gopal Lahiri is a bilingual poet, critic, editor, writer and translator with 32 books published, including eight solo/jointly edited books. His poetry and prose are published across more than one hundred journals and anthologies globally His poems are translated in 18 languages and published in 19 countries. He has been nominated for Pushcart Prize for poetry in 2021.
His ‘Selected Poems’ was published recently.

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