Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Aug 2016
I didn't see her for three days

then she was back
but her color was not

where her hair parted
was starkly arid
on her forehead
wasn't the dot of red
and her saree was bleached white

yet nothing was amiss
she intently scaled the fishes
cut them neatly into pieces
though a piece of her went missing

She knows well
for no price
can she stop the sale.
Pradip Chattopadhyay
Please log in to view and add comments on poems