Bio Note: I am a Pushcart Award and Best of the Net nominated poet. My works have been published in Stand, The Bitter Oleander, Ink Sweat and Tears and elsewhere. I live in Kolkata, India and love remote places, tea and mobile photography.
In the Queue
Days are now used up before the morning. You wake up more tired than last week, last year, more distanced from a meaningful conversation and a sigh of release, deceitfully profound The rising haze misuses all blank spaces between tall buildings and sticks like wrong answers, blatant yet difficult to rub out even by afternoon or the next day. The city is a sepia landscape, all sky and fog. You think through such thoughts and you sense a Thursday is grappling to wake up in its weekday clothes on a gloomy morning. You think back. Your Moandays, Tiresdays, Wailsdays. Though they all have same faces as in a queue in front of an ATM. All silent. Like strangers with urgent memos of life in hand. All blank. Though you know your own good. You have started to feel comfortable in this routine of lull and liquid limestone fog You wait for something good, may be a little better than this. Like a new haystack sun or the smell of an extra ripe orange or lime pickle Some week, some month, some day. Not far away. Like everybody else. In the queue.
©2023 Sekhar Banarjee
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