October already, and
the trees lose their damp;
Silently into the night
it slips,
taking umbrage in sleeping forms and steam,
picking its way through drunken brawls and
leftovers.
***
October already, and
the clouds are amiss;
Gone to their grandma’s across
the bay,
Family feuds incite migrations
But if you never look upward
you can pretend they’re here still.
***
October already, and
the guttural discontent
climbs out of our bellies,
loops over shoulders and necks,
stops by the iris to nod hello,
before strangling us smugly
in our beds.
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did going through the family tree inspire the grandma across the(karachi) bay reference? or were these just migratory clouds?
—aneela who needs to know everything
aah, but also the crisp and heady promise of winter in the evening air… then again, my neck of the Bombay woods actually has a winter.
Dear aneela who needs to know everything: No. 🙂 When I think of “bay”, it’s pretty much always Bombay. Marine Drive, to be more specific. But did you know my great-grandmother spent her early years in Peshawar?
wordjunkie: Now that’s a coincidence…the next post talks about your neck of the woods! 😀
The guttural discontent of October for me too: the year closes in, one more passes by with even lesser achieved.
Nino’s Mum: You’re telling me. 😦 And yet, I feel like I tried to do more than ever.