The chestnut tree in my courtyard is in full bloom,

clusters of flowers scattered on the green beneath.

Who said this is the time for designing summer dreams?

For going home, to Dhaka, to my hometown.

Cranes are sailing over boundaries to attend

Burials of their parents and friends.

Covid 19 has set me in a cage —

This spring of two thousand twenty.

Dhaka comes to me in random snapshots

Via Messenger, Facebook entries

And through flickering videoclips on YouTube

Dhaka lives in my backbone, in rice and curry stores.

And in frozen food departments.

Ilsha fish lie cold with open eyes —

Echo the face of an ancient fisherman carrying heat

From my grandma's stove.

Now summer has left with its blackout dreams,

The chestnut tree stands bare of its promising allure.

Covid 19 still blowing in the wind

Navigating boundaries. I breathe in my glass bowl.

And in my head, Dhaka lives on.

03.11.20

Dilruba Z. Ara is an internationally acclaimed Swedish-Bangladeshi writer, novelist, translator, artist and educator. She lives and works in Lund, Sweden, and writes from there. To know more about her, visit www.dilrubazara.com