The December night was like a cold bunker
I admitted your stares for warmer ends
the world outside was absorbed in a design
two electricity poles fell on innocent cows
their carcass rotted whole day crows darted
lamenting fragile flesh whining dense air
cars passed by our windows unaware of seeds
we kept for a planet that is yet to be orbited
In the evening we read a book about folklore
Weren’t we making one in a closed room?
There was no one outside using language anymore
We chose a hole to keep silence uncontaminated.
Rizwan Akhtar works as an Assistant Professor in the Department of English, Punjab University, Lahore, Pakistan. He completed his PhD in postcolonial literature from the University of Essex, UK, in 2013. He has published poems in poetry magazines in the UK, Wales, the U.S., India, Canada, and New Zealand.
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