A Stone Melts

by Pankajam K

The courtyard is full

cluttered with sentiments,

sighs and plastic chairs.

He enters the house

with a travel bag.

The soil on which

he took his first step

holding her hands

is to get burdened

with her bones’ weight.

Night stands triumphant

on the gloomy carcass of the day.

Wind biting his ears

brings the smell of death,

the smell that used to permeate

during her everyday worship.

Upon the ledge of his shoulders

rest two hands softly. He looks back.

Eyes with the cold stare of mountains

never seen with moisture, have in them

the sorrow of a lifetime;

waiting to melt down.

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