My River by Rajnish Mishra

My River


Soundless stays my river, still, calm, no wind blows.
Dark sky and horizon, and wave-twinkling bands,
A distant din, faint stars and a crescent that glows
With city lights orange over silver-black water, sands.
Black is the colour of darkness they say.
Black is the colour, at night and in day.
Black, it’s black of many an un-fixed hue.
Some nights there are, when the silent river flows
Under the moonless sky: the black of tar.
Some are the nights when black goes with blue,
The colour of night while the young moon glows.
Some are the nights when lights near and far,
Spangle the river’s black, red, yellow, blue,
Lights hurled into sky black; black river too.

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Rajnish Mishra is a poet, writer, translator and blogger born and brought up in Varanasi, India and now in exile from his city. His work
originates at the point of intersection between his psyche and his city. He edits PPP Ezine and writes at
https://rajnishmishravns.wordpress.com/