This week’s poem inspired by Boishakh or Bangla New Year celebrations in my favorite park, which is usually quiet on hot days, and always popular with crows.
Boishakh in the park
Above loud milling crowds
a weary mother crow
feeds her overgrown chick
Dhaka 2016
The fate of mothers…
Short and sweet. Make sure you make another book with your poems. I wish one for my birthday!