Waiting For the Shoots From the Shroud
She also dies
to be reborn in hallucination.
Her spouse’s corpse
is wrapped in a white dhoti.
She makes everything
safe within the walls, slamming
the windows and doors.
Bacteria perform the post-funeral rites
before the burial.
A smoldering Frankincense gulps down
the fetid smell.
She’s one among the multitude who
can’t see *Mangalyaan
landing on the lap of Mars.
No one can alter
the earth’s flat shape in her mind.
Her peace feeds on the
scraps that a pretentious priest drops.
Her lips rain mantras,
yet shoots of life don’t sprout from the shroud.
She waits
within a circle of illusion.
There’s a meaning
in meaningless waiting.
*Mangalyaan – India’s first Mars mission
Poetry Nook Weekly Contest Winner
Copyright © Fabiyas M V | Year Posted 2019
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