THE CRYING SLIPPERS

Processed with Moldiv

THE CRYING SLIPPERS

Disconsolate

My legs weak and trembling

I wake up at the break of dawn

The cigarette butts in the ashtray

The lingering stench of marijuana

Laced with the scent of Indian perfumed oil

My wits are missing you

My feet slid sloppily in the slippers

The bunny rabbits offered to you last Easter

I stifle a cry of joy

You have come back, I rejoice

Alas! No!

Forgotten

Left behind clumsily

In front of our wedding bed

The slippers are cold and wet

The slippers are crying

Howling your brutal departure

Bare footed

Your rush to catch the first boat

Away from me

Away from reality

The crying slippers add to my grief

 To the great void in my life

I cannot manage to fill

Void

Emptiness

My heart is in my flames

Put off the fire

Settle the scores

The crying slippers will join

Your razor, tooth-brush, clothes

In the thrash for sure

Alas! My wits are missing you

Anita Bacha

(London April 2015)

 

 

 

 

 

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s