A winter evening

Alice is
one and a half century old
its that time of the year
books are sprouting
in a desert

inboxes overflow
plants freeze
words are flutes
hollow

a winter sits
on its haunches
by a dying fire.

 

merciless love

look carefully
right there
between my brows
is a chasm

desire,anger
empty words
false love
all fall
into it

the voiceless
wordless
endless
unsaid
fall,fall,fall

Achebe, Yeats
and me
things fall apart