☛ Submission for October, 2024 issue (Vol. 5, No. 2) is going on. The last date for submission is 30 September, 2024.




-         Gopi Kottoor (India)


We must all get to this little town.

It looks so tiny and is all so quaint

though it’s supposed to be crowded

and it always looks as though

there’s no one here.


We aren’t even looking for any one though;

No little chicken soul fried for our daily meat,

no fish, no dear pet gone

before us, wagging its tail here to receive us;

No poet, no painter, you used to know,

not even our beloved.


Sometimes the little town can get really big

as you get a bit closer, the way it makes you

all so utterly alone

just before you reach here.


All eyes droop of friends known,

of lips that smiled and lied;

To this small town with you,

no one is coming with you this far.


Hands wave like balloons in the distance.

The little town is up a hill,

 all full of evening mists

from where you look down;


There’s a wedding down there

 and a birthday dance;

And the one who loved you, beneath a tree

 in another’s arms.