Season of War by Chumki Sharma

I am not a silent poet

Winter is gone,
a voice in my head says,
“make room for Spring.”
I step out on the days of cold,
stare at the canopy of
brown around,
rake the fallen leaves, stack them,
their colour that of
dried blood,
and the newsreader lullabies
about the government fighting the houthi
rebels in Yemen,
the deafening silence of the twenty killed
by some suicide bomber in Kabul.
I throw my lit cigarette on the leaves,
smell of burning..
Could be diesel
Could be napalm.


Chumki Sharma is a poet, model and banker from Calcutta, India. Published widely across the world, she is a twice Pushcart nominee for 2016. Her debut manuscript “Running Away With The Garden” has just been published from the Blank Rune Press, Australia.

View original post


Leave a Reply

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s