A Foot Away | Yukti Narang

Paperback, an identity card, wish washed to the point
of renewal or retirement, it goes with the farmer
collecting weight, numbers, of raw potatoes, yields of
foreign fields,
the mud of lands a foot away, distant, beyond reach, the
barbed wires,
fences of fiends, familial lineage, a whiff
of mud travels visa-free, with that air, fresh and fragrant
in epochs,
settles on the farmer’s foot, a foot away, cereal, corn,
dance when it reaches the dwelling, meeting its treasure,
the bees have shared pollen in both their fields,
farmer shows the card wrapped in plastic covers, it rains,
blossoms drink from the water
the same, and range,
here, there a foot away, upon the will,
when wheat is cut, the crop is caught,
out its shell, the shy bee visits, not the queen, the soldier,
she looks upon her gift on all sides,
it is balanced the smoke travels visa-free,
a foot away, and when the barbed wires look away,
people pass through that fence, the first dessert of the crop,
they do not discuss the same with the wires, blinded a
foot away.

Yukti Narang is a variegated creative writer, poet, and performing artist who finds magic in tales, music, art, and characters as an avid reader and a cinephile who loves creating characters out of thin air and making stories out of narratives simple and bizarre. Writing culturally rich stories with fascinating twists from history, mythology, and beyond are the works of her art. She wishes to become a versatile storyteller in all my chosen formats. She is in the process of getting her first novel published traditionally and has multiple pieces of poetry and short fiction sent to anthologies and magazines internationally. Yukti creates screenplays and theatre plays and is working towards the literary world and cinema. She is the sanctioned writer of two art galleries in India.