Nothing remains the same except their names
And the short silence after yet another landslide
And a dog waits–
Our carefully-plotted stories have now been flooded
And words hide behind a sad emoji :
Elsewhere,a lonely slipper floats downstream–
It’s time to write elegies for the living
Buried inside their heads,and under the debris
Of long-guarded hopes and dreams–
Masked men dig deep in the heavy rain
But the estate workers are asleep:
Remember them when you awaken and sip your tea.
A sad and beautiful poem in an elegiac tone which speaks of the individual as well as the general , and deals with physical and imaginative or emotional death both poignantly and philosophically
Thank you very much,Amita.
Sad melancholy mood sets in visualising the tragedy ….
who would have thought when they hit their beds that night that the nature has plans to bury you live, and that you it’s your eternal sleep?
Very reflective piece, beyond the perspicacious view of the incident…
Thank you very much,Suma.
Time and perspective appear telescoped somehow in this fusion of the real and surreal.
A fitting elegy to the modern contemporary lack of humanity .It made my eyes well.I could imagine the scenes of tragedies you so poignantly mentioned in your poem.
Thank you very much,Nalini.