Waning moon

(Photo courtesy: NASA)
Darkness descends with birds chirping
in the trees, eager to find a resting place.

I wade through the stream; cold water
drenches my shoes and socks. I clamber
up the bank on the other side thinking
about the warmth that awaits.

The darkness is ominous; all is suddenly
quiet. The birds have settled in the trees, somewhere
hidden, deadlike.

She feels love for her mother, or maybe, she feels
grief waiting for her lover, who comes through
the gully, waving a silken handkerchief.

I climb the hill again, years later
and cross  the stream, faintly lit
by a waning moon. The ripples
in the water, gather around
my wet shoes, that I don’t bother
to take off.

My village is deserted, but I hear
her voice that loiters  around
like a ghost, questioning
the visitor who comes through
the gully waving
a silken handkerchief.

On the higher side, the mountain
is devoured by a dark goddess.
On the lower side, a cliff, where
she fell down from a tree
before I could tell her the news
I brought from Bhinkathori.

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2 responses to “Waning moon”

  1. Bhoowan says :

    झमक्क साँझ पर्दा सम्म
    चराहरु गुँडमा पुग्नु पर्ने
    कुन ऋतुले भत्कायो खै
    अँध्यारो पहाडको अफ्ठ्यारो भीर
    बाटो कसले भनिदिओस …
    बिरानो छ गोरेटो,चिसो पानीको मूल
    अनि सिमलको त्यो ठुलो रुख !
    मलाई एउटा खबर भन्नु छ
    मलाई मार्नु छ थुप्रै बात
    तर को संग ?|
    ओहो …. भूतहरुको ‘परेड’
    निर्जन खण्डहरको
    नमिठो दृश्य
    किन चिहाउँछ
    त्यो अँध्यारो जून ?

  2. sewa says :

    bhuwan ji, anuwad gareko ho ki k ho?
    anyways always nice to read ur lines

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