The one living
in her house
is so fortunate
- Ancient Bard
Sign
There was a sign at the door
typed neatly, with rules
on knocking and waiting—
as if the room were a border crossing
into a small republic of silence.
Inside, a girl
was rearranging the alphabet
into forests and thunderclouds,
letting tambourines shatter
across the floor of her novel.
The other kids wanted hopscotch,
but she preferred
imaginary tea with Beethoven,
and conversations with the wind.
They said she vanished later—
but maybe she just kept walking
into the woods she’d already written.
Maybe I met poetry in the woods.
- Shivpreet Singh
Singing oneness!
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