Nails:
my beloved friends
in childhood
and I kept them
carefully in a
metal chocolate box!
Small pins,
stolen from aunt's
dissection box
and I used to pin
small butterflies!
Drawing pins
taken from Dad's
table drawer
and I had fallen
for their wild glitter!
Lost interest
in small ones
as I grew up
and bigger iron nails
flooded in the dark corners
of household!
And I never knew:
someone could utilize
them to fix the top cover of
Grandma's coffin
and that day
Jesus touched my heart!
And today, all rusted
they sink beneath
every footstep
and pierce my heart
every moment!
07.01.98
I saw death Slowly enter The orbs Of my Brother's eye Slowly Slowly I saw My brother Sink and die! There are many nails Which pierce our heart And we hang Upon them Till we die! Leena
Brilliant use of metaphor. Extraordinary in every way. I am so glad I did not miss this one. Warmest regards, Sandra
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
It’s a beautiful word and psychic play in the arena of ‘AR’* Ms. Nivedita UK * Abreast Reality PS 10+