#in memory of the deceased children of the brutal Peshawar attack.

I see a little girl, draped in white.

Dark mane swaddling an angelic visage,

warm like the summer sky.

Red Cheeks. Wide eyes.

I question.

What does she see?

Puppies fight? A toddler’s game?

Twinkling stars? Falling rain?

Or her mother, acting silly?

Her dreams. Her happiness.

Her dreams. Her doppelganger.

I look at her, the girl in the frame;

at the sister who barely lived.

The sister whom I barely held.

Shreshtha Chakraborty

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: