first storm...
searching for the shirt
he is wearing
—Mohua Maulik
hostel gate—
a gust of wind scatters
the empty nest
—Mohua Maulik
north wind
the banyan tree grows
its own prosthesis
—Mohua Maulik
at the forsaken house
i step on a lizard
the tail
still squirming amidst the ruins
of our chapter
—Mohua Maulik
our watches
side by side on the dresser—
the
widening gap
Mohua Maulik
trailing a finger
over the shimmering
still waters
unaware of the storms
that
lurk below your façade
Mohua Maulik
planting
peace lilies in beds
overrun
with the same old
unresolved
grudges
Mohua Maulik
jasmine scented
autumn breeze
rustles the hibiscus —
yet my heart is uneasy
thinking
about tomorrow
Mohua Maulik
Update (Feb 25, 2025) New email for submissions: journalcoldmoon(at)gmail(dot)com Founding editor: Roberta Beach Jacobson Current editors: ...