I stare at you blinking at me.
We are two followers
in search of the missing leader.
You appear disappear re-appear
like sun drops dripping from the tip of
a gabled roof on a winter morning
shining faint light on a path to an unexplored line
as I sit down to write each day.
“We have done this before, we do this everyday,
in fact, we did this just yesterday,” I tell you
We slip into the rhythm of a step dance,
back and forth, front and back,
unravelling words camouflaged in white
stringed together into a poem
“We don’t need a leader,” I think, “my thoughts are privy only to you,
who needs a leader when we can be best of friends.”
Preeth Ganapathy is passionate about anything to do with the written word. Her works have appeared before in a number of online magazines including The Ekphrastic Review, Visual Verse, Willawaw Journal, Buddhist Poetry Review among others and is forthcoming in Mothers Always Write. She is also the winner of Wilda Morris’s July 2020 Poetry Challenge.