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Winter Midnights

Old numbers on the radio;
Through foggy panes, a street lamp’s glow;
Some aircraft’s feebly buzzing sound;
Barks of mansion-guarding hounds;
A drunkard’s wrangle with another,
Then quick amity—each a brother;
The thought you still think well of me;
These things, alone, my company.

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Shamik Banerjee is a poet from Assam, India, where he resides with his parents. His poems have been published by Sparks of Calliope, The Hypertexts, Snakeskin, Ink Sweat & Tears, Autumn Sky Daily, Ekstasis, among others. He received second place in the Southern Shakespeare Company Sonnet Contest, 2024.

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3 Responses

  1. Roy Eugene Peterson

    Your winter midnights sound like fun and good company. I also listen to old-time radio. Enjoyable personal perspective poem.

    Reply
  3. Gigi Ryan

    Dear Shamik,
    Another thoughtful poem from your pen. I love your ability to transport your reader to the the point of view of the speaker of your poems.
    Gigi

    Reply

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