Poetry 2009 Third Prize Aliya Khan

The Friendly and The Unfriendly Communion

The stars have gone wild and invisible,
the moon hides its weak face
behind patches of cloud,
The moth hour has buried
the old sun in a dark graveyard
where the wild stars
have been coffined before.

Wild the night
and the spirits wilder
roaming in a cyclonic orbit,
I know the stars,
the moon and the sun
all befriend when the spring
heralds and goes on
to the last breath of its longevity.

But I don’t care
whether it is spring or winter,
whether the stars are wild or mild,
I keep going on

though the going gets tough.

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