Refugees
by Ananya S. Guha / November 29th, 2015
They come with the spring
They come with summer
They come infested with flies and pock marks
They are despised
Their baggage is children, women
The men have no place.
They want new territories.
They are culpable
They could be anything, anyone.
But most important of all
they are refugees, seekers of change
as the wind billows
and the storm screams
They are whip lashed by wind
and bathed with waters,
roaring, yawning seas.
They are refugees.
Come, me, you
see their plight
and write stories. Not fiction.
But fact, encrypted in graves.
Ananya S Guha lives in Shillong in North East India, where he was born and brought up. He has been writing and publishing his poetry for the last forty years. His poetry has been published in both electronic and print formats such as: Indian Literature, Other Voices, Osprey Journal, Glasgow Review, The Literary Nest, Up The Staircase, Asia Writes, Art Arena, Praxis Online, Muse India, Your One Phone Call, In Between Hangovers, The Peeking Cat Magazine, Post Colonial Text among others. He has also written widely on educational and social matters. He has ten collections of poetry and his poetry has been anthologized in various collections of Indian poetry in English. He holds a doctoral on the novels of William Golding.
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This article was posted on Sunday, November 29th, 2015 at 8:03am and is filed under Poetry.
