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Loud Rain

The rain is loud now, As if a giant feet arises from the clouds To step on the river under the bridge of my heart And disturb it in such a way That the sails of ships bend, And the water touches the bridge from below, Tickling it to sorrow… The rain is loud now, But actually, it has always been like this. You were there once, And I never felt it. But now, All there is Is this sorrow That tickles me from inside, As if it wants me to laugh, Yet doesn’t let me At the same time…
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Bottle on the sill

 The bottle sits on the sill

And throws it's transparent shadow

That leans and leans away from my feet

Slowly.

The bottle sits on the sill

Watching the children play,

Not knowing that a single baseball coming through

Can break it 

The bottle sits on the sill

And makes the shadow of the curtains transparent as well,

Like egg whites on the floor.

The bottle sits on the sill

Until I break it by accident.

The children really aren’t a threat at all.


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