Shadow 

Poetry, A Memory 

Orange darkening sky
Her head shifted on my shoulders.
Her fingers interlocked with my fingers.
A gentle trace, her silk skin as a stream—
Soothing the dappled barren lands
Hugging a statue in the storms
Squeezing the hardened, distraught fingers
Numbing the shoulders—strained;
“You remember—
The dream you spoke of,” she said.
“Under the thousand stars—
I held your hand and—
Rested on your shoulders.”
A song she spoke;
“Let us make the dreams true.”
A breeze gently rushed through my face.
A droplet trickled; I saw a wet stain on the sand.
More stains—
A tidefall dripped down my eyes.
The soothing arms closed around me.
Silk-smooth fingers grazed my hair.
The fabric of her clothes was stained wet.
Her eyes closed;
The other hand on the back;
Her voice a lullaby, “I am here now; I am here.”
My trembling, stumbling cries—
Veiled by the dark night stars.

Bio: Shadow is the creative alter ego of Abdul Hannan, whose roots lie in the deep traditional Urdu poetry and who emerged into the English verse a little while ago after a long silence to capture the tears that dwell in the heart and fall on the paper in the veil of dark. A 20-year-old writing from Rawalpindi, Pakistan. One of his works has appeared in Tales from the Moonlit Path, one is forthcoming in the June issue of "The Wise Owl," and three more are forthcoming in the Pike Press.