A Straphanger's Pilgrimage Poem by nimal dunuhinga

A Straphanger's Pilgrimage

Rating: 5.0


Yet I remember what you said as a secret my poor Mom; 'Your delivery was very painful and it's like a Tug of War.
The placenta almost wrapped around your neck and the awful cry lasted a long.'
Yes Mom! Since then still I am crying, but nobody listens as it's an inner cry.
Thanks, You have taken me to a specialist doctor on several occasions in the past.
But his magical stethoscope failed to read my rare palpitation.
I realize the distance between us and now you are far away.
I am sorry Mom for your prodigal Son's curiosity,
Still I hold your knitted facecloth as a keepsake
And I step down and walk towards the sad withdrawal of your stranglehold.

* The pilloried who acts hastily on the ridiculous stage of the Life-Drama.

COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Alison Cassidy 01 February 2009

Great title to this poem of anguish and emotional weight. Your mother obviously made a huge impression on you, Nimal. Now sad to be separated from one who suffered so much bringing you into the world. The knitted facecloth adds such a poignant touch, too. Love, Allie ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥

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Sandra Fowler 28 January 2009

Very elegiac. Your mother is always as close to you as a poem thought. take care. Kind regards, Sandra

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nimal dunuhinga

nimal dunuhinga

kalubovila East, Sri Lanka
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