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 was born and grew up in Kolkata, India. He is a bilingual poet, writer, editor, critic and translator and published in Bengali and English language. He has authored seven volumes of poetry in Bengali and nine volumes in English and jointly edited one anthology of poems in English. His poetry is also published across various anthologies as well as in eminent journals of India and abroad. He is the recipient of the Poet of the Year Award in Destiny Poets, UK, 2016. He can be reached at glahiri@gmail.com. Read other articles by Gopal.