each little brick of this house

is harsh, dark, clumsy and tired-

you walk and memories prick-

we stay here-


mildewed souls, uttering damp words

day and night-

while in the tiny spec of land attached

where there are very few green spots,

I hadn’t noticed

when the little curry-leaf plant

had shot up into the sky

to bring seeds of light

to plant in our heart-



Posted for my prompt ~ Light @ Poets United Midweek Motif