Summer - A tapestry poem with Shernaz Wadia
This summer I made a bonfire of my loves.
Beneath the pregnant clouds and still air
Of the sweltering nights, as the breeze died,
My remembrances of us together – yellow
Like the oleander, thespesia and laburnum—
I let them burn, and lend themselves to the ash.
They scatter as the rising wind whistles, playing
Chinese whispers with the fresh-leaved trees;
The dust has a new smell: rain at last, rain at last!
Shernaz Wadia's poem
ferocious heat scorches villages
the debris of funeral rites
and cadavers adorn river beds;
parched throats vie with the aridity
of cracked earth and barren fields
Ah! the murderous inclemency
fuelled by man’s rapaciousness!
Aircons buzz, fans whine in urban homes
And water runs wastefully from taps
Summer – Tapestry
This summer, as aircons buzz and fans
whine, the dust has a new smell: of
cracked earth, barren fields and
cadavers in the still air of sweltering
nights; parched throats vie with the
aridity of ferocious heat; the murderous
inclemency — fuelled by man’s rapaciousness —
even though water runs wastefully
from taps in urban homes!
My remembrances of us
together scorched me; in the dying breeze
I made a bonfire of my loves, I let them
burn with the yellow-leaved oleander,
thespesia and laburnum that adorn river
beds; They lend themselves to the ash like
debris of funeral rites. And scatter as the
rising wind whistles, playing Chinese
whispers: Rain at last; Ah! Rain at last!
(First published at Rate My Literature, 11 June 2016 and republished at tapestrypoetry.webs.com)
What is tapestry poetry?