WRITTEN BY THE POET AT AGE SIXTEEN
THE ROSEBUD
THE WIND
It’s always there;
perhaps you haven’t noticed
it all that often.
It’s always there;
blowing,
whistling,
singing,
weeping
-narrating tales-
-old and new,
of unsaid romances and unlived memories of tame youth.
It’s always there;
singing a song
-sometimes humming,
-sometimes whispering so softly you
hardly notice it at all.
Sometimes it stops singing altogether
and dances
–wildly, out of control–
to a beat entirely of its own.
It’s always there
-listening, singing, dancing-
an old companion;
an old lover
of the earth.
NAKED WORDS
plain words
with no message
no purpose
no punctuation
a naked picture of
naked language best enjoyed
and understood when
left undecorated
it becomes a child’s simple
thought
Shiksha Dheda is a South African of Indian descent. She uses writing to express her OCD and depression roller-coaster ventures. Sometimes, she dabbles in photography, painting, and baking lopsided layered cakes. She rambles annoyingly on Twitter. You can find (or ignore) her here.