By: Zunayet Ahammed
Every morning peeps through my window
With its sparkle.
Each noon reminds me of its fading away.
Beautiful flowers on earth wither.
The evening creates an image of loss.
The lorry quietly rolls forward
Buses, trains and other vehicles also roll
Faces are out in the crowd
A lot to say lies behind
You are not with me
Though your reflection and words
Always haunt me
Only I miss you
And cannot see you.
Zunayet Ahammed is an Assistant Prof. of English at Northern University Bangladesh( NUB)