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July 15, 2024


By Aneek Chatterjee


Silence had a rhythm
But when it is everywhere,
the big avenue weeps
and red ants whisper inside
The naked tree only houses
black crows, drowsy
Known faces look cinematic
under a visible mask
This silence is devoid of
only pestilence knows

Article © Aneek Chatterjee. All rights reserved.
Published on 2020-08-31
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