Treasure Island

Jagannath rao Adukuri


Images in a train


They lived outside the pale of my existence
Just a few images that touched the fringe
“Hello image”: Mersault addressed Marthe
Just like only one of her other lovers did
The woman here was a mere image
The way her eyes flashed at her husband
As she changed the nappies of the child
The child swung in the cloth-cradle, gently,
Like a weaver bird swings in the fibrous nest
He cried, he gurgled, he knocked about
A mere image in another image’s existence
Mersault knew Marthe was a mere image
Flesh-and-blood Marthe did not know this
This woman did not know she was an image
Only I knew she was an image, like Marthe.

Submitted: Saturday, November 22, 2008

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