I hear the leaves rustle in the breeze
The gust picks up slowly, gradually
I hear the rattle of a window
The one that lies loosely in its frame
Like a watchful sentry
Announcing the entry
Of a wayward breeze
That rolls in through its screen
To knock upon the door
At the end of the corridor
I walk out of my bedroom into the lounge
The sentinel window
Is now trembling, recoiling,
Rattling its pane
Warning of rain
That will soon moisten
Its face; gushing
Rushing, tearing
The dust off old memories
Renewing the pain
I see the first flash of lightning and then
The thunder breaks
The storm has arrived
I look at it through the window
Now lying quietly in its frame
Soon, the glisten of its pane
Swells into a stream flowing
Down silently as I sit quietly
With the sweet ache
Of old memories again.
____________________________________________________________________
SEPIA STORMS
by Mahvash Mohtadullah
Bio:
Mahvash was once a part of the Financial Services Industry. Now she writes. When she’s not writing, she’s fussing in her head over ideologies of social justice and equality, with superhero twists! Mahvash’s stories and poems have appeared in The Rumen, Sequoia Speaks, Recesses, Every Day Fiction, and DoubleSpeak magazines. Her poem, “Veins” was long listed in the Plough 2023 poetry competition. She has published a book of short stories and three books in a children’s series.
Follow Mahvash Mohtadullah at:
Blog: theroamingdesi.org
Instagram: @mahvash_mohtadullah
