It was an October evening
when the muddy waters of our pond dried up.
That night we sat beside it
while our mothers only watched from afar.
We were only seven.
Autumn evenings still make me shiver.
I hear city ghosts crying their lungs out
while clawing at their chests for something other than air.
We did too when we found only fury in each others eyes.
We were only not seven.
I thought I was dreaming;
if I was, I did not wake up yet.
‘I hear city ghosts crying their lungs out
while clawing at their chests for something other than air.’
My favorite line. I find myself grasping for something anything real anything I can hold. Thanks for sharing.
At first I thought the title was long for the poem, but then I get it. It completes the poem!! The poem is so sad, and it leaves a lingering feeling, I think it’s because of the repetition at the end.
Love this, well done Shruti :)