June 10, 2010
Amitabh Mitra



people queue for rations a ravaged sunset hides behind a tall night a child suddenly just forgot to cry a mother couldn't remember her only child the queue then just touched a solitary sky.


haitians stood
some came from afar
there was this strange smell
not of death
nor of the dying
nobody had seen before
the laughter
of death
had spoken before
the common language
of death
nobody before
while watching death.


coffins and coffins
and more coffins
an angry earth swallowed more people
and buildings broke an unaware sky
and then
there were no more coffins
death remained comfortable
sheathed by
the sun.


somebody said
we must help haiti
and then the rain poured
in tears of substance
and empathy
in the gaping holes
somebody tried
drawing a curtain
somebody stole
the setting sun.

Poems and Ink drawings by Amitabh Mitra

An orthopaedic surgeon in a busy hospital in East London, South Africa, I actually belong to Gwalior, Madhya Pradesh, its long summers and hectic politics. I edit a print poetry journal called 'A Hudson View', a journal on African arts called 'Inyathi' and dream of going back to Gwalior. My blog on South African Arts is http://www.amitabhmitra.blogspot.com/
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