Elegy of another sort
Thus she was taken away from me,
snatched in ultimate violation,
under a white cotton sheet.
Taken away the years, the moon,
the words that danced between us
and all that is scrubbed and shined.
Human condition, my mother used to say;
Sunt lacrimae rerum – who, Virgil?
Ovid or Catallus? Or some old shadow on the wall
only to brighten a dark meditation.
For me, a long day and eyes
as parched as the desert fissures.
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Comments about this poem (Elegy of another sort by Jay Kasturi )
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(28 November 1757 – 12 August 1827)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(27 July 1870 – 16 July 1953)
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