She remembers how she wept,
in her juvenile days, while her nipples still wet
the maiden demise, her kid brought
a face she wouldn't remember now
she still reminisces, in her robustage
when her eldest son in twenties
succumbed to a road accident
Cadaver lying right here, never to rise
She watched, in her sinking eyes
on wrinkling face, her huby's breathless body
lying, in the twilight, few full moons earlier
amidst grieving faces, right here
Her memory hasn't faded fully, yet
on her grandson's recent departure too.
Today, in the thickening purple light
she attempts to readjust images
in her feeble eye sockets
and separate out, this from that
She keeps focusing her sunken eye balls
thro' dangling entangled grey strands
over deepening facial contours
to assess and convince herself
who will be the next.........?
A poem on death, grief and lost love wirh heartfelt depiction. It may be quoted..... Her memory hasn't faded fully, yet on her grandson's recent departure too. Beautifully inscribed and amazingly shared.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A sensitive write on the heart-ache of outliving your loved ones while perhaps still feeling young inside and remembering her youth and as age tangles the pathways to memory she perhaps only feels that something is not quite right.10