Chain of Evidence.
They said if I had not been sent spiralling
through the air. To land in a crack of bones
and the shimmering confusion of concussion.
They would not have found him.
If the car had not been dragged to the pound
like a wounded beast and scrutinised.
The package would not have been discovered.
There in its accidental hiding place.
It held the unique whorls of prints.
Those unnoticed smudges of molecular transference.
Trace evidence rose ghostly under chemicals and lights.
Microscopically examined to yield its secrets.
Clever forensics gave up information.
Science displayed magical revelations.
The driver it seems had only given him a lift.
A random act of kindness that left him carrying unknown clues
and multiple bruises. And so they traced him.
A career criminal. Grown careless in his confidence.
Who could not trust his pockets. So a series of events twisted
like a chain through time. With me at one end and he at the other.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem