On the wall of April
some town-poet has instilled
the equation of Hope:
Expectations > Arrivals, Happenstance < Scope.
I look for that young man
with his tote full of spray cans
and an easy explanation
for the existence, universe of verses
and what about April converses.
These days my thirst shifts
from coffee to tea.
I place my cup on the window sill,
gaze at the street parallel
to the garden yet to fulfill its potential.
Time bicycles on the setu nearby.
The bridge runs warm, water still bleak.
Poetry is a notebook found
in the trunk of heart;
with every word my beats pound.
*Setu means bridge
***
Bio: Kushal Poddar, the author of 'Postmarked Quarantine' has eight books to his credit. He is a journalist, father, and the editor of 'Words Surfacing’. His works have been translated into twelve languages.
Twitter- https://twitter.com/Kushalpoe
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