You left them then, you whimsical child
I wonder how you did it,
leaving all your memories, experiences
- your hand picked shells,
pretty things you had so gleefully twirled
in a bucket of fresh water to rid them of grit
before setting them out in a row.
Did you truly leave the crumbs
out for the birds? And, did you imagine
Hansel's fist curled
into Gretel's, so bewildered,
and so lost in the woods for the trees?
There they are now –
Whirligigs of fear fluttering.
The reds and browns sighing.
Perhaps you needed a rake
to heap the colors steeped in smoke,
fragrantly dispersing the chill.
When your desires crackled
in the knuckles that you popped,
and round the fragrant flaming bush.
Panting, your chest heaving
with your breath. Your lungs'
ether lunging forward
as you left behind your soundless wishes
like white night markers on black road nights.
Rows of milestones,
to usher in my long winter.
© 2008 Rumjhum Biswas
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