It poured that evening after that crematorium The man there collecting the dead like piles of leaves Leaves that have fallen from trees bursting with summer While the garden lies untended, with no one to stop And admire the flowers that were your joy and pride. The skies darkened to black and rain lashed the…
Tag: death
The body.
The body lies on a steel table All around it people stand Scrubbing, cleaning, harvesting As in fruits from an orchard. Enbalmed and disarmed I see you as you saunter off Your hands in your pockets Whistling a familiar chord I know the smell of death, I think That stench of rot And formaldehyde That…
“Life is for the living.”
“Life is for the living,” my father used to say. I never really understood what he meant. Oh, I was familiar with death. I was never shielded from it and as a young teen, often accompanied my father on his occasional trips to the crematorium or graveyard. Later, on the way home, I would I…
ipsita banerjee 