WHISPERS

The moon is just a breath away, Far nearer than you seem today. My whispers fall on window sills That’s lighted this evening, pure and still. Cracked pavements are ready to hold, My kerchiefs were filled and ready to fold. Perhaps the whispers fall on rain trees, That forms the gorgeous green canopies. Can you not hear the whispers silent but loud? Will you not come by? Tear the shroud?

Dhaka, 22 June 2024.