Friday, December 11

Elegy for an Uncle

The cops inform her promptly whenever
there is new body at the morgue
She rushes all alone to see if it is him
Her heart filled with fear and hope

Every new year, she makes roasted meat
His favorite, and waits for him to return
She wonders what would give her closure.
Will his dead body answer all her questions?

Daughters, two of them held her hands
Time, though, heals sore wounds, sharp pains
Anger replaced pain, and life distracted them
What they feel for their father is only disdain!

Her memories refuse to fade, the little things
The night before he left he was unusually gay
His spectacles still conjure a wink, but what
haunts her now is his planning for a rainy day

She thinks of the reasons, was he kidnapped?
Or another woman? She shakes off the thought
The phone rings, it’s the cops again, she goes
Slow but stoic, to face her life, a new corpse

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