The Phone Call - Yich Devendra
The past does find its way back through telephone wires,
across lands and sea into jet streams
When you hear a dog bark in between her sad tales of solitary supper and arthritis,
spaced with pleas—"Come back"
The past springs surprisingly-Like the crow of a rooster
At high Noon—in another land where it is already tomorrow,
And here, I am still yesterday, getting ready for bed
Head full of winter planning in rumpled pyjamas
Was it real?
The old dog's bark, the sound of breakfast and the smell of old laments
The bell at the gate.
"HANG ON" she says "THERE'S SOMEONE OUTSIDE"
Is she still waiting for his return? Or mine?
The dark truths, not dealt with, slither back as silently as a viper in the fool moon
Its pouch full of venom startling the unsuspecting foot
The world we make is never memory proof,
Even the deleted parts
Like believing we are loved
Squeeze themselves through the wires
Disguised as long distance telephony
Just clotting memories of blood and tears and her solitary sadness,
As fragile as mist on a goose wing—as
Luminous as longing.
'The Phone Call' received an award at the Cambridge Libraries Poetry Month awards in April 2010, in Cambridge- Ontario, Canada.
දිනමිණ වසත් සුළඟ අතිරේකය-
21/06/2016
