Grey dust covers the city like a shroud.
Leaves roll like wheels, driven by the wind
that moans at my window, closed for winter.
Days fold, like a lacework of memories.
Each layer touches like skin.
You have been buried
for almost a month
at the edge of the churchyard
where the town ends.
The earth must be cold there.
The names of the body parts
you knew so well in your school
heart, lungs, kidneys and breast,
must have liberated
inch by inch,
just as little by little you must have given up.
On evenings, when the wind forces
from our side door, I remember you.
I wait for you in the living room
beside the fire
while every bone in your body seeks warmth
deep below the ground.
Copyright © Nabin Kumar Chhetri 2013
Nabin Kumar Chhetri studies at the University of Oxford. He graduated with a degree of M.Litt in Novel from the University of Aberdeen. His works have appeared in Gutter, Fade, Apple Valley Review, London-Grip etc. He has been awarded UNESCO heritage award from Italy for his poem in 2011.
It’s wonderful reading you again.
Thanks Sudeep Bhai.