Your song



Your song has a single line
maybe it is not even a song
but the way you sing it
and the way I hear it makes it one
Clouds have vanished into the gray
and a wind bangs its head on concrete
I tune into forgotten frequencies
and find words ransacking my sheets
I freeze hoping they do not swing around
and molest my un-slept bed
but the horn has begun to sound again
I see the ship at my door step
Calling me, trumpeting into the grayness
Lapping waves pull at my feet
a soiree begins in a crevice
and a chorus in me
Your corny line was a blood refrain
My breath just gurgled down the drain
©Reena Prasad

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