For hours I have the tool of loneliness
to build a planet, and all I do- sit
at the hem of my campground to see
the vast horizon. Sometimes what you
desire to see appears. Sometimes you squint
and find you lost a face, albeit in others
you sought its eyes, mouth, cheekbones. For hours
I have the forest, and then nothing.
Darkness lights up a fistful of fireflies.
I have hours. I don't. I recall. I can't.
Where is wind when I need to hear the trees?
Kushal Poddar is widely published in several countries, prestigious anthologies included Men In The Company of Women, Penn International MK etc, Van Gogh’s Ear, been featured amongst the poets for the month December by Tupelo Press, Vine Leaves Literary Journal's Best of 2014 and in various radio programs in Canada and USA and collaborated with photographers for an exhibition at Venice and with performers for several audio publications.
He is presently living at Kolkata and writing poetry, fictions and scripts for short films when not engaged in his day job as a lawyer in the High Court At Calcutta. He authored ‘The Circus Came To My Island’ (Spare Change Press, Ohio) and “A Place For Your Ghost Animals” (Ripple Effect Publishing, Colorado Springs). The forthcoming book is “understanding the neighbourhood'.
Love the line, "Where is the wind when I need to hear the trees." Outstanding!
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