#ArtoonsInnPoetryparlour
#Napowrimo2025
#Day1
April
I won’t lie –
I care little for it : for it hurts –
The churning of newness,
And the tearing away from
old things.
The old sun digs its claws
into the barely born year,
shredding it
into thin strips of drudgery,
that wrap themselves
around our sagging necks.
April.
I see the cracks,
the summer heat,
seeping into the crevasses
and scorching our feet.
And while it hurts,
I write :
The contempt that drips
from my words,
might water
the barrenness down
and show me
things I’m yet to know,
that April holds within.
©JAYA PILLAI
Image : redcharlie (Unsplash)
