I long to live more intensely
when I become new
and dust my skin with earth,
My friends all wear the sound of words.
I lag, understanding deceit, the frost within
and the struggle of light.
The waterfalls are hidden in crevices
I’m scooping them up from below,
filling my palms,
The river descends from the hills, envying
the thick green color of the lips, pluck a few
thin ferns and calms my eyes.
I’m writing my name,
my hand trembles with ink and pen,
pebbles and stones teach me today’s curriculum,
The sky is torn apart by a streak of light.
and the drawing holds clutched sunsets,
melts rusted mailboxes.
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Gopal Lahiri
Picture Nick Victor
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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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