CHITTA'S BABY.A Poem by Terry CollettA WOMAN AND HER BABY.Baby is dead, Tarak says, his Voice sounds hollow, Holding the small Bundled baby In his arms. Let Me see, you say. What is there for You to see now, Chitta? Your work Is done. Tarak Walks with the small Bundle to the Nurse and tells her To go with it. Wait, I need to See her, you plead. The nurse has gone, The door swings shut. Where is the nurse Taking her? You Ask rising from The bed. Tarak Does not reply, He goes to the Window and peers Out. Where is my Child? You ask. Where Has she gone with Her? Tarak clicks His two fingers Behind his back, You watch as the Fingers click click Click. You wake from The dark dream and Baby cries from The cot, her dark Eyes peering at You between the Thin bars coloured Pink. Tarak turns Over and says, Change her, Chitta, I cannot stand The noise or stink. You lift baby From her pink cot And kiss her head, Tears fill your eyes, She is living, She is not dead. © 2010 Terry Collett |
StatsAuthorTerry CollettUnited KingdomAboutTerry Collett has been writing since 1971 and published on and off since 1972. He has written poems, plays, and short stories. He is married with eight children and eight grandchildren. on January 27t.. more..Writing
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