Amber

There are nights,
when winds are silver; they have ears.

A cluster of eyes– green, milky, blue,
I only see red hibiscus.

A line stretches– it divides space,
caresses my fingers.

A soft tongue– it brings salt and pepper
water wants to drench my body.

There are days,
when you burn everything into ash.

*

Gopal Lahiri is a Kolkata, India, based bilingual poet and critic and published in English and Bengali language. He has published 29 books to his credit and his works are translated in 16 languages. Recent credits: The Wise Owl, Catjun Mutt Press, Dissident Voice, Piker Press, Indian Literature, Kitaab, Setu, Undiscovered Journal, Poetry Breakfast, Shot Glass, The Best Asian Poetry, Converse, Cold Moon, Verse-Virtual journal and elsewhere. He has been nominated for Pushcart Prize for poetry in 2021.