(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.
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