the marigolds did not grow this year.
you left us.
a friend died of cancer.
my migraines have grown in number.
the children have started to worry.
i stopped fighting nights.
blame is better shared.
spent lives heavily rest
on my chest
I stroke their cheeks their hair
they all look like me none like you.
you must feel cheated?
i am sure.
they say it will rain soon maybe today is soon.
is today soon enough?
eagles hover low
filth of our consumption
lies heavily on their bodies.
they do not complain like me.
they just do not fly anymore.
i drove.
i counted.
five thousand empty eyes
thirty aimless cars
twenty five choking trees
seventy five children
hiding in their fathers pockets holding onto their lives on the
tiny seats of the motorcycle.
smog filled eyes and restless hearts
i heard a tree gasp for air.
they closed the schools several times this year.
the cold is neither bitter not cold
it amplifies time that will not return.
when seasons die hope returns to the corner of the universe.
stifles itself
dies quietly
whimpering like a stray dog
in the early hours of the morning.
seasons died last week.
I’ll bury them?
wrap chandi ka vark around
covering in entirety
their beauty that once was.
ugliness is constant
it is dependable
hopelessness is enduring
relentlessly there
for me
it is always there when all else leaves.
I can depend on the world dying
so can you
so can you

…

Dee is from Lahore, Pakistan. Loves dark nights and old trees.