Smoke in the Trees

Cold flowers push at the window
Tendrils of fragrance
Like smoke from last summer’s fires
Clutch at my mind.



Each day takes her
Away from spring
And into summer heat.





Rain against my window
Like rivers of mercury
measure the cold.




Night falls when
Shadows leave the ground
And fly back to the sun.



She lay freshly made,
All awash with pain.
And her eyes stabbed the sky,
Till a million holes appeared in the blue.
And thus it was that the Earth made light
Shine where it had been forever dark.


This entry was posted in Poetry on by .

About Rumachak

Ruma Chakravarti is a Mathematics teacher and literary blogger. She lives in Adelaide with three children, a dog, a rabbit, a bird and an assortment of fish. She translates poetry by poets in her native Bengali, including Tagore into English. She is currently writing her first novel and is an avid people watcher.

12 thoughts on “Smoke in the Trees

  1. prema

    Ruma….This is sizzling stuff ! Searing, sharp imagery. The falling raindrops against the window, akin to rivers of mercury….I was blown away by these lines. Am a fan !

  2. Lopa Banerjee

    An assortment of exquisite images and metaphors, the poem resonates with the celebration of life, the wonder, the pain and the illumination that comes with it. Greatly touched!

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