Run.

Turn left! Turn left! Go straight!
Look back. His shadow precedes him. I can see it.
Don’t let it get to you.
Don’t let him get to you.

The alley beckons. I must decide.
Foe or ally? Run or hide?

I rush past windows. Disjointed reality-
My feet have brains of their own, my eyes
wander in the rooms I leave behind.
A child screams, don’t let it them get to you!

Jump over. Look, a river.
The other side always appears safer.

Water soothes. It is easy, being carried away.
Something is tugging. Baggage-
I must let it go. This and that, oh I liked that one.
I am lighter now and safe, but destitute? After all,
Won’t not having things that make me happy,
be a different kind of poverty?

Ashore. Breathe. Independence is heavy.
Or the water, maybe.

Ripples, I can see. They can see, too. War
Can be damaging when weapons are not physical. I see,
Judgment, disappointment, shame. Love?
Fight or flight? The child in the window looks, impassive.
Behind her, ever changing rooms.

The shadows bring with them a calm darkness.
After all, everyone needs the night to sleep. 

-Shree

I wish thoughts had colors.

I wish thoughts had colors.

You see a little girl playing in the park:
oh look!
She has red swirls with a golden hue around her head.

You’re walking down the street,
you see a toddler in a pram;
and around his head, multiple colors,
changing faster than you can blink.

A man is returning from office and his head is wrapped in shades of blue.
Oh but wait!
There is another woman with darker shades of blue.
And you wonder if both these people are thinking about
similar things.

And then you see them look at each other and a look passes between them - was that sympathy? No. Maybe that rare genuine happiness you feel for strangers. Maybe she smiled because some of her blues matched his. And she knew that his is a peaceful mind, just like hers. She doesn’t know what he is thinking, but she knows that he is satisfied and at peace - just like her.

I wish thoughts had colors. There would be so many of them.