If every wasteland had a cropper whose
Adroitness could convert its barren bed
Into a spanning field of grains, this news
Would stun the goggling firmament and spread
To other regions, pleasing every soul.
Likewise, for my vacated, sombre heart,
You’ve taken on a patient cropper’s role
To not just sow the seeds of love but start
To till the crops of comfort when despair
Prevents the sun from falling on my land.
When dryness sets my soil in disrepair,
You water it with your own gentle hand,
Though your own aridity’s greater than
The barrenness of this complaining man.
Shamik Banerjee is a poet from India. He resides in Assam with his parents and works for a local firm. His poems have appeared in Fevers of the Mind, Lothlorien Poetry Journal, and Westward Quarterly, among others, and some of his poems are forthcoming in Willow Review and Ekstasis, to name a few.