AT YOUR AGE, I WORE DARKNESS

 

Much too daunting, it swathed my soul like my mother’s black sari. Even now,

as we speak, I’m threading

a darkness you’re destined to unravel,

unravelling another you’ll need to reweave. What can I pass to you,

that you’ll keep? Once you asked, Does the Ganga’s current stop? It doesn’t stop, it merely stops being what we are and start being what? Where? What can I offer you to clasp close? These dappled mango leaf shadows—the poetry in pain?

This gentle, inherited darkness? What can I gift you that will help in  reincarnation, the next life you’ll explore without me?

This poem is about: 
My family
My country

Comments

Additional Resources

Get AI Feedback on your poem

Interested in feedback on your poem? Try our AI Feedback tool.
 

 

If You Need Support

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741