Monday, August 29, 2011

At Least That

The fabric of our association
Would have worn thin.

The fraying edges would have lost
Their neuron like sensitivity
And become numb, dead.

We would have been left with
A hideous gauzy mess-
Entangled, live and burning.

Good we set fire to it
While it was still straight
And somewhat bright,
While we could still
Look each other in the eye.

At least what lies in the grave,
Is something glorious,
Worth remembering.

At least that.

©Rasagya Kabra, August 29, 2011

"There is no answer. It's okay. Even if it wasn't okay, what am I supposed to do?"
- Raymond Carver (Cathedral)

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