It is not the same today
The wind under the door
is a little more bent that usual,
the dry leaves are shuffling a little slower,
the crows are cawing, perhaps,
a little too sharp.
The young leaves are wary
of the slightest rustle.
The postman’s noisy bicycle
is creating ruckus on the gravel
but the dust shies away from rising.
The wind has started blowing again.
Yesterday’s wind had a cleaner breath; today’s seems tired. Too tired
to push the half open window.
The lone white curtain
shaking the dust has fallen
on the gasping wind
creeping in
under the door.
Photo Credit
Photo is pixabay creative commons
Poem is Copyright Shruti Das
Guest Author Bio
Dr Shruti Das
Dr Shruti Das is Associate professor English in Berhampur University in Odisha, India. She is a creative writer with poetry published Nationally and Internationally and also a literary critic, writing bilingually in English and her native tongue Odia. She has published two collection of poems named “A Daughter Speaks (2013)” and “Lidless Eyes(2015)” has been published in Anthologies like “Inspired Heart 2″, “Inspired Heart 3”, “Scaling Heights” and “Colours of Refuge” to name a few. She has participated in many Seminars on English language and literature in Europe, USA and India . She is sensitive to social issues, loves to travel and to dream. She loves animals.
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Website: shrutidas
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Images are so fresh and thrilling, aptly and artfully documenting this alarming time ! “The wind under the door
is a little more bent than usual,
the dry leaves are shuffling a little slower,
the crows are cawing, perhaps,
a little too sharp.
The young leaves are wary
of the slightest rustle.” sends a chill up the spine and down the legs! Is it that the countdown has begun for the young leaves! Weariness, decay and desolation-a horror story, told in hushed-up tone and heavy heartbeats, even haunts me now long after I first read it !
The failing strength of the tired wind suggestive of weakness , uncertainty and anxiety is a fitting metaphor for the hour confronting Now all of us. A superb poem.
Indulgence, inaction, inertia blend seamlessly to create the mood. March seeps in without any effort, one feels.
Lovely poem.
PS: There is a typo in the third line. Than has become that.
Very fine, Shruti, subtle, evocative, haunting, calming – a poem for the times but for other times too.
Shakespeare said”hold mirror t society”..i likd the images f “postman”..”curtain.”.”tootired”
Aha…aptly titled Ides of March, that precisely and concisely sums up our world at the moment.
Shruti at her best!
Wow!!!!
An intense, heightened hearing, shruti, comes to us in these beautiful lines and makes our awareness—and lives—deeper and richer as the wind plays with and participates in human life. The tenderness and the vividness of the lines draw birds and humans harmoniously and compassionately into one embrace, loving and consoling. In these lines, even in the middle of the month of Mars, we find a lulling and a peace that comes from great reserves of inner strength and a transcendence that can unite binaries into a single, soulful, and beautiful experience.
We hope to hear a lot more from Dr Shruti Das.