When All Was Dark
WHEN ALL WAS DARK
Sewing machine, long idle, gathered dust
In the antique I kept it for years to remind
How my mother used it in our times at their worst,
Stitched with love the family’s dress of all kind
To save money whose source had almost dried.
Beneath dust lingered the touch of her tired fingers
She left, to wipe that out I never wished nor tried.
Toiling hard to remake the displaced home, to her
The war years seemed like only yesterday
When the country was partitioned on dubious pretext.
Uprooted and unwanted we were made to stray,
Mother gave a safe mooring to the generation next.
When she fell sick one winter in her twilight years
I prayed, lighted a candle at deity’s altar for her sake,
Time didn’t wait for her, I saw with eyes full of tears
The candle sputtered, spent, and all was dark.
April 22, 2018.
Copyright © Subimal Sinha-Roy | Year Posted 2018
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