The Air Is Amiss Poem by Apu Mondal

See, the wind leaps too high
Making my willow bow low
And the pigeons on the ledge
Flutter like helpless dry leaves

They had left, after dinner we
Had together, that night
It's a pity they were found next
Day, drowned in the river

We have too much of this
Wayward weather most of the
Year, have developed inner
Walls in our lungs as in will

Our Churches are our hearts
Where resides the Lord to whom
We have resigned ourselves,
So we don't mind anything amiss

(C) Apu Mondal @ 2025.