Friday, 15 July 2011

In the ward

(eight moment)

He sat slack hat,

Rumpled back,

Jacket I bought him,

Doodling on the card,

Drip in left arm.

He swept names of God

Down on every gap

Built the centre boss

And then the buckler,

Firewall against the

Wrong cells inside.

I left him fighting

On his shield or with it

and awaited the homecoming.

By Ali A. Naqvi

Note: This was written in 2005, during my father's treatment.

No comments:

Post a Comment