Friday, September 5, 2008


The twilight play
was a patch of joy;
And the fine brown clay
hid any bruises under the skin.

Wounds then were exposed easily
and we would twitch
as the turmeric was applied.

Now the wounds find their way
to the grave and to red dust
which can still hide them.

1 comment:

Rukhiya said...

Very good parallel! Your poetic eye always amazes me!