Learning to Breathe

CALLING ON AN EMPTY HOME Familiar streets, familiar buildings, An old key to match the rusting lock A stubborn door, weathered and wise - Lift it to the right and it creaks open. The old wooden table, with notches and scratches, The same burn from the spilt milk. I wince - I feel the sting, a decade too late. The same wall with incomprehensible dashes Like ants crawling in zigzagged fashion, A letter, a dash, a number, An unraveled code of growth and wisdom, With dusty trophies as evidence. A worn desk with crumbling papers And jammed books, All holding the memories of a time that once was, A time, never found again. Familiar walls, familiar pages - An absence of faces, an absence of voices. Memories volleyed from wall to wall, Fate decreed, page after page, Now lying undisturbed, unheard. A flood of nostalgia unleashed Through the opened door Into a cold, fragile mind, Brimming, overwhelmed, Screeching with echoes. So...

A MOTHER'S WINTER I pray to God you never know, My prayers are never answered though. The winter's dark and dreary here, All that's wicked is masked with snow. See you yonder a man so queer Who wanders far when death is near? Is that the Reaper on the lake, From whom I've fled all through the year? With frightful fear I sit and shake, My child I've made a huge mistake. I pray my errors you do sweep, And flee this winter's frost and flake! Hurry now, child, into the deep, Glance not behind, my promise keep. Shelter find and a place to sleep While with God's angels must I sleep. - Maryam Kaleem If you find the poem vaguely familiar, it's because I've used the end-rhymes from the famous poem 'Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening' by Robert Frost, and have re-written the rest of the poem. This was a fun experiment. Hope you like it! Find the original poem here:  https://www.poetryf...