Two Sunsets or

By Rahana Ismail

She saw him say—say that he would take her
To see the sun set at the sand
Then glide all the way up some...some tower or trunk

 

To see the sun set again. His eyes rose and set,
Rose and set, rose and set
When his words jogged up and down.

 

She loved roses. They peeped and popped at the windows
With their pink shy wings. She lost the rest of what he said
Beyond the rising and setting.

 

The setting, especially.
The sun setting twice on you?
He was all set—Teeth, tickets, towers. ‘What a marvel!’

 

She stepped out, steeped in
Roses. She is walking to the banyan tree
Which has seen Roman soldiers. She sees the sun set.

 

She climbs up the pinkening leaves
Leaving prints
On her tender brown fingers. Roses fill her

 

With their wings waking to words.
At the top, she doesn’t see the sun set a second time.
Instead she sees the lingering light

 

Bursting into a million
Like fireworks in a rainwashed sky.
She loves roses. She loves the light after.

 

Dr. Rahana K Ismail from India loves poetry and calligraphy for the footprints they leave behind after they are done with their strolls on the snowy paper. She lives in the sea city of Calicut, the home of calico and colours. She lives in a house where books are taking over the wardrobes and waking hours. She writes literary fiction when it comes to short stories.