there are the lions, standing
amongst the frightful din.
blood drips off
their paws as they
come marching in,
amma holds her
kulanthai fast as their
presence stretches the day thin.

kulanthai asks, “will we be ok?”

amma wishes to halt
the child’s tears, what
can she do as the lions
and their rifles come
drawing near? she hugs
her kulanthai close as the
shrieking shells leave her
in fear.

amma says, “we will be ok.”

shell after shell. bed after bed.
body after body. she runs
with her child in her arms out
the hospital rendered shoddy.
she cries as she yearns for help
from somebody.

but she can’t dare to say, “it's not ok.”

sweats bead around her pottu,
it’s too much to bear, suddenly
her eyes are blinded by the sun’s
flare. she gasps and bolts up,
her hands empty, her kulanthai’s
photo hanging in jasmine there.

amma whispers hoarsely, “it was never ok.”