To Drink I Make
I was born there
in a naive village
now this is my city
I walk on the city path
now I walk by the royal path
like the mouth of a hungry child
there suddenly the piece of onion
shows me the path of cost living
I'm in the bed-sheet of sleeping child
the biting cold of winter drives me to a winter cake
dogs are very happy with the street fire
barking they are very much in the cold of the night
withered mouth feels grief
no food for the hungry belly
the light of lamppost in the tempest
speaks with twinkling stars daily
no dream, no desire I have
I walk and observe my life
moon speaks with her beloved
and makes the dragonfly her dove
no caravansary is near to my walking path
no hard drinks I have
walking path is very long
rightly I think I need to drink
I buy the letters, the words, the sentences
by my whimsical thoughtful press
to drink I make by these all some poetry
everyday surely I pursue the life of dignity!
-December 10, 2019 Chattogram
Copyright © Mahtab Bangalee | Year Posted 2019
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