How many amongst us blest them, god knows
That they left behind young helpless widows?
To us their integrity vanity, perception
profanity
Ever a competition to what we would never be
But they were like us, part of a wider
reality
And we miss their familiar presence on
windows
“Tonight,” we say, “let there be no heavy
heart!
Let the music begin, the merry dance start!
Let there be moonlight to brighten every
part!”
But I think we will miss their shadows…
©
1994, Sualeh Keen.
From the poetry collection Sickman with a Mirror, published in January 1996 by Navdin Prakashan Kendra.
From the poetry collection Sickman with a Mirror, published in January 1996 by Navdin Prakashan Kendra.
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