No Child To Break Poem by umashankar manthravadi

no child to break. only rites and burials
but yet so lightly drowned in the act
of retrieval. of a hand where it was
(in a nest built by ants now ruled by vipers)

stand still. let the hand. sea comes sand filled
churned sea water is a tangled offering
of spent flowers clumped hair from a bird's nest
(the sand abrades some nerves in the groin)

the hand still. and its shadow. shadow and
veil turned crimson. smoke spreads thinly windshaped
and remembered. and the child with its bit
now hard and drawn black. fire blazes smoke burns

No. you do not drown. it is sand that fills
your lungs, flowers for the funeral

- December 31,1977