How the solitude grows
Bare, within my skin
A muted living,
This unsure breathing,
An unquiet sting; only
The moon sighs,
Under the forlorn
Night sky, overcast
Like my mind
No comfort, no release-
Only the moon
Shines across the valleys
Of forgotten memories
And rivers that dry
And flow. Knows,
Only the moon
Madras Courier originally ran as a broadsheet with a poetry section. It was a time when readers felt comfortable sharing glimpses of their lives through verse. If you have a poem you’d like to submit, do email us at [email protected].
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