A patter on a step.
A stumble on rails.
Hurrying niftys.
Shove by, frails.
Longish corridors.
Trolleys with bales.
Out with flowers.
In, Siren wails.
Laughing some.
Some with rales.
Consumed with grief.
Alongside hales.
Trudge to the mortuary.
A baby on scales.
(Islamabad)
(June 24,2009)
even familiar spaces gain a different perspective at times as these, don't they doc?
amazing and attention capturing piece of pen work.you wrote this one flawlessly saadat
yes, the hospital is a microcosm of life... birth, suffering, dying... but in a faster more hectic rate.....
again...a very touching work of art..you have a uniquely palintive style which clings to the soul...very moving.
I agree with Manoj. There are the seeds of several excellent haiku in this poem. And haiku don't have to rhyme, giving you extra freedom to use exactly the right words (as long as they fit the scheme of 5-7-5 syllables, of course - that's the constraint of the haiku, isn't it!)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Well penned, well described and yet one can go on imagining the unsaid!