New English Review publishes author’s poem “Moving On”

Moving On


You perhaps have grown tired of me

and do not respond to my anxious calls

nor to my frantic messages.

You look the other way when

we cross each other’s tracks by default

hoping that I shall crumble

into a heap of ignoble dust

to be blown away to nothingness

or I would dissolve my heart bit by bit

in the salinity of my caustic tears.


But I assure you

I too would forget you and ignore you

fraction by fraction

and soon your name would be wiped

off my conscience like

the writings on the sands on the beach

licked clean by one sweep

of an indignant wave

and then I would spread my wings

once again to fly off to

another far off land and roost on

another tree.


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