Poetry 2018 Longlist, Manjeet Banerjee

Colour of Grief

Grief is timeless and so is loss

they do not rush to the end

they just change colour;

 

when she seeks refute in the denial of the loss

beneath her swollen soreness of the eyes

after those sleepless nights of endless tears

the colour is violet;

 

when she grapples at the midnight sky

wishing secretly to roll back the time

shattered mind drapes the hue of cloud for companionship

the colour is indigo;

 

when she warms up to the bygone days

dreams of the past stares blank at the present

last shreds of the broken memories promises to accompany

the colour is blue;

 

when she envies him, for leaving the table early

silent shouts protests of leaving her behind

soul had changed brushes, from love to lost to selfish vanity

the colour is green;

 

when she take that unread book off the shelf

he had always planned to read,

the pages never turned though, resident dust rolled off the covers on her palm

the colour is yellow;

 

when the mornings are over, after-noon

her middle-parted oiled hair is let loose to dry,

the sun shines high on the once-vermillion strained perfect parting

the colour is orange;

 

grief never left the house

it lives in the folds of his old used clothes,

by the bed, beneath the linen, waiting for a rumble to rush out in open

the colour is red;

 

the colour of grief is the rainbow

when viewed in the reflection of the last droplets of the untimely wintry rain

Bitter, resilient and etched to the memories of the lost sunshine.

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