fragile little things

-
the nights in Delhi have grown vague
barely a memory

awful to think 
only two months have passed
and yet, forgotten so easily

red night light
suitcase, bedside table
fridge that was my sun
broken washing machine

you, witness to all these fragile little things.

perhaps forgotten
healing witnessed only by strangers

park full of them
and only one girl 
crying 
in the middle

curious neighbours
busy streets
trees that made pretty patterns
relentless sun that shone on me

you, thief of the joys of these fragile little things.


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