Picture
artwork by ariyana
Sunset like copper pots and pansSlowly the grey settles in beneath
The waters of a scummy ditch,
Country liquor, sweeper colony,
Evenings shaped by formless revelry
Aimless talk, smattering of small shops
As afternoon fog
Bumps in like a herd of unfenced swine. Leaving all behind I walk a long way off—
In front of me cordwood for the funeral pyre,
Some stray dogs, a madman.
By the river's breast among the pyre folk I sit
Listen to tales: two of them side by side—
Mother and daughter both the same age,
Demon children is the reason why.
Just as on the body of Shiva's sky
Monsoon's rain clouds not the real heavens
So too that mother and daughter—
Think of life and its outcasts in the same way. Murmurs the waters
To me in the glittering dark.
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