Longings
R. Sunderesan
I write my longings
on the river every noon
when I bathe
and the letters snake to sea
only to be tossed about and broken
by the shattering waves;
every evening as I stroll
I write my longings
on the clear, blue sky,
but soon the blanket of
darkness
hides them
and with the break of dawn
the letters melt and drop down
in the sun’s heat.