POEM: Lady Weeping

An old woman in a sari
weeps at the bus stop.


It’s 6am. Nobody out
but joggers and tired
telemarketers, heading
home from a night of
being Chad from Denver
to be Arjun of Bangalore
once more.


And this woman sitting
solo on a bench–weeping.
Shunning assistance,
her story feels clear.
There’s no space to
grieve in their home.
No instant free of
someone who wants to
fix the unfixable.
So she slips away
from a quiet house
to unburden her grief
at a distance from the
loved ones it might
rain down upon.

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