A Women’s Day Tale

I have forgotten to collect the ransom
from the house chores. I have failed
my promises. On the clothesline, all night,
wind amuses itself with the forest prints
on the twin dresses of the women in my life.
One day in the whole year I forget to congratulate
you for being women, to buy some roses.

You forgive me, say, “Let’s watch.” and so we do,
see the forest spread and sprawl, wind darken.
We cross the thin membrane of glass,
be in the scene, be the protagonists.
I have no eyes there. Two women lead me, and yet
I am the one they trust with the foods and the knives.
We sit around the fire you kindle and listen to the djinn
our daughter brings out ripping her dreams.

My fingers feel the shrapnel of the light.
You say, out of context, “You should shave so I may
recall our wedding day.”
Our daughter feeds the djinn although a sign
prohibits this. Today she can do that, right?
We are in the dim, on the other side of the pane.



Words and Art Kushal Poddar





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2 Responses to A Women’s Day Tale

    1. Here we do have the otherworld spirits. Who is demanding ransom for the household chores? Not your wife – she works from love for you and your daughter, not for praise or roses.

      Comment by Tracey Chh on 9 March, 2024 at 10:20 am
    2. This is a beautiful poem split into perspectives between man/woman and divided internal perceptions of the same physical/spiritual experience through a glass pane darkly. Thank you.

      Comment by Charles Donaghue on 9 March, 2024 at 6:16 pm

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