Joy Goswami

(10 November 1954 - / Kolkata / India)

They are the ashen ones. They are the extinguished - Poem by Joy Goswami

They are the ashen ones. They are the extinguished.
They are smouldering wood

Half-burned and buried under layers of slime
they have been escaping for ages.

Each second grows a hundredfold in passing

It's my job now to dig their beds
To tuck them in tenderly under sheets
under coverlets of mud

They are our mothers our fathers. I must find their bones
I must dig hundreds of graves holes bunkers I must
rummage through ages of sorrow anger ash and blood.

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Poem Submitted: Tuesday, March 6, 2018

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