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Shiva

January 13, 2019
Rice crowded terraced heights above
in vivid stripes
as though the world had not
for a long moment paused
while a harsh and violent wind seared the slopes,
and the city they’d for years
led down towards
had not
in that long moment gone

though when you drop a bomb
however powerful
some features randomly remain intact
or recognisable, at least

a chimney stack
a temple arch, a river course, a grid
of curiously uncluttered streets
a simple shed
a jagged obelisk of stones –
the relic corner of a vanished home
in a vanished neighbourhood

I heard you say
your sister’s blood would not stop flowing in
the hot summer sun;
she could not swallow
to replace the blood she lost she was
a child – and so
were you –

it feels like yesterday.

Published in Earlyworks 2018 Anthology

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