Susheela Raman Follow

Susheela Raman

How many roads have I wondered?
None, and each my own
Behind me the bridges have crumbled
No question of return

Autumn leaves like discarded dreams
trampled underneath a tide of careless feet
it’s the same song playing
everywhere I go
it’s like an army marching right through me.

Nowhere to go but the horizon
where, then, will I call my home?

Summer spent, in the high grass
or just fragments, ransacked memories
dark river snakes, across this murky hall
boatman sings his downstream melodies.

How many roads have I wondered?
None, and each my own
Behind me the bridges have crumbled
where, then, will I call my home

Susheela Raman