for that which is no longer ours
SEASONS PAST
Bones and Autumn Light
Two Poems
Kushal Poddar
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The author of 'Postmarked Quarantine' has eight books to his credit. He is a journalist, father, and the editor of 'Words Surfacing’. His works have been translated into twelve languages, published across the globe. Twitter- https://twitter.com/Kushalpoe
Bones and Autumn Light/ Two Selected Poems
Because My Name Is Not...
You would assume
if I scriven -'I stood
awash in the midday sun,
all my shadows tucked within,
my heart, bleeding ,
squeezed in my right fist,
my eyes gone, black and unblinking.'
that those words chisel a metaphor.
Sometimes they are not so.
I have to crawl inside another womb
and brave another childhood
until I grow up, stand here again.
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Almanac
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The thorn blooms
a red bud on my thumb.
A few deaths below
the rocky shore falls for the sea.
You rise from my lap
some four decades after my birth
and without any preface
say, "Gardening is restricted to no season."
I feel I'll wake up, but no.
