Secret Narrative

Night finds me in her cross hairs.

Why am I talking to you now?
Words arrest little, failing on the pavement.

Grey clouds get bruised,
Crumbling in vast emptiness,

No longer has a name, the street
Shines in halogen lamps,

The shattered window can measure the
Distance between anguish and scream.

Remembering- the bullet ridden bodies
Lying in the pool of cold blood.

Not known by whom or when the shadows disappear
On the broken narrow wall,

Silence slits my throat, the secret narrative is now
In search of black and white ink.

Gopal Lahiri is a bilingual poet, critic, editor, writer and translator with 24 books published, including five jointly edited books. His poetry is also published across various anthologies as well as in eminent journals of India and abroad. His poems are translated in 16 languages. He has been nominated for Pushcart Prize for poetry in 2021. Read other articles by Gopal.