Poems

My Mother at Sixty Six by Kamala Das

Driving from my parent’s home to Cochin last Fridaymorning, I saw my mother, beside me,doze, open mouthed, her face ashen like thatof a corpse and realised with painthat she thought away, and looked but soonput that thought away, and looked out at youngtrees sprinting, the merry children spillingout of their homes, but after the airport’ssecurity …

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A Photograph by Shirley Toulson

The cardboard shows me how it wasWhen the two girl cousins went paddlingEach one holding one of my mother’s hands,And she the big girl – some twelve years or so.All three stood still to smile through their hairAt the uncle with the camera, A sweet faceMy mother’s, that was before I was bornAnd the sea, …

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