GRIEF Poem: INTERVENTION, by Yatharth Rajput

Today morning, my neighbors painted their house pink. “Sticks and stones break into homes. Everyone knows that.” the contractor joked. Since it’s spring, I fell off my bike & did not mind. On the road, a snail slugged forward. Just behind it, one was slashed, like a misplaced fault line. Turns out, loss is a second skeleton. I followed him and he led me to the fallow again. & you were there. The weeds grew like prayer in our hands, and we lived w/o thinking about it. My head on your shoulder, I asked you, “Boys, like snails, have a shell tied on the back and a tail they leave behind.” We planned a walk to the temple because my grandmother died this day 5 years back. Because she disappeared, we found ourselves even better. Our shoes are torn. I tell you how much I still talk to her, and we enter the gate like time enters grief/grave.

Author: poetryfest

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