Light

 

each little brick of this house

is harsh, dark, clumsy and tired-

you walk and memories prick-

we stay here-

spectres-

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

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