I Am Home


0

the door, like an old man, creaks

the swollen window groans

the spotted walls frown at me

sniffle and snort the cobwebbed corners

dank and grimy it is inside

layers of dust on the floor

they’ve preserved my footprints-

stepping outside.

*

cautiously, gingerly

lest the grime sully

my pristine white dupatta

I step inside

inhale the musty air

choke and cough

and yet, after years,

I am home.

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Seema Taneja<span class="bp-verified-badge"></span>

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