Yearning

Tejal D. 10th - Gurgaon, India
It is night and
you're waiting to go

into whispers, shadows,
strange memory and lore

forgotten. a songbird
quivers in your soul.

but carved in her voice
that sings so small

is greenery, berries,
peck kisses and more.

a piece of sigh
breaks from your throat

floats over your tongue.
it tastes bitter, you're sure.

but the light has yet
to crack the sky moor.

the city is sullen
not to call soon for

you. listen, listen to
the rustling of your roots,

the sigh licking your lips
and the flutter of an eyelash

as your eye looks over the
invisible, existing horizon.