Posted: July 16, 2016 in Uncategorized, writings
Tags: , , , ,

Image: Rebecca Dautremer

A ravaged land, its
soul splintered lay quiet.
In the storm’s wake,
memories circled around Her.

They said:

“The fabric of skin broke open
like dry earth. Peering into the
cracks, torched by the hypnotic
play of flaming shadows, we
saw her. She sat, huddled, eyes
unseeing, breath shivering she pled,
‘Oh, mother, help me.’ We watched
as the cracks closed, the skin moulted,
leaving her trapped within,
un-freed, un-helped. The storm
never returned.”

In the deep dark, still she waits.

© Anuradha Prasad, 2016


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