Anniversary & Solid
[ poetry - may 05 ]
That is the house where I got married.
On that day, the breeze blew,
lifting the tent with it,
scenting the air with marigold.
And here, where the paper cups are,
and the twisted hair pins and
here, we sat and exchanged garlands
drank milk from the same cup,
sealing our life together.
Today, the vans rolled past early,
with a clatter they brought in
lights, makeup, faces
and one coconut.
and the house where I got married
shook off its sleep
and got ready for
another auspicious beginning.
With those two heavy hands of his
He’d like to make a bird,
Dark-eyed, delicate, quick-breathing.
But the bones turn into boxes
So he makes cages.