- Well - Poem by Aparna Chatterjee
- Well -
Well, the son
Who called
Three times
A day, to say
He was okay
Now will not
Call any day
For, he has
Gone to that
Place, where
All of us
Will go....
Someday,
Never to
Return,
Even for a
Day....
Saturday, September 21, 2019
Topic(s) of this poem: son
POET'S NOTES ABOUT THE POEM
[wrote this after hearing about the demise of our neighbour's son who was 31. He used to suffer from High BP and died of a stroke in his sleep. They were trying to get him married. He lived on his own, near his place of work, away from his home and so he used to call up thrice every day (morning, afternoon, evening)to inform his parents that he was safe and well]
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5/3/2024 9:54:37 AM # 1.0.0.1119
Artfully described the loss of a dear one. Kingsley Egbukole