My Mediocrity

by Ibohal Kshetrimayum
(Shillong, Meghalaya, India)

Since I cannot write about cherry blossoms
Like the Japanese
I write about the silence of pine trees
On wind’s lips
Since I do not have a marble bust in my garden
Like the Romans
I write about the flesh spilling out of your neckline
In language of mud
Since I do not have the wizardry of words
Like Shakespeare
I write about your colorful madness
On an autumn leaf blowing upward