Taste the rain.
Feel it on your arms
before the clouds roll in,
slow and low.
Dance with your shadows
before the sun joins you.
Feel the grass
before the earth decides to hold you.
Walk into the river barefoot,
where the water hums old songs,
and the current pulls you in.
Leave your shoes at the riverbank.
Stretch out,
reminisce.
Sip on the tea.
Eat the biscuits.
Lay out the blanket on the grass.
Forget the names
and the words spoken.
Listen to the way they laugh.
Forget the names,
notice the way they smile.
Give everyone a hug.
Say hello,
like you know goodbyes.
Show up with a flask of tea
and a handful
of sweets and savories.
Forget the date,
the day, the hour.
Fold the days
into neat little squares.
Tuck them into your pockets.
Walk into yesterday barefoot.
Open the door.
Then knock.
Shikha Valsalan grew up in Dubai and India, and currently lives in Atlanta, USA. She works as a product manager in her day job, and writes in her free time. Her work has appeared in The Hooghly Review, the Roi Fainéant Press and The Disappointed Housewife.
