POEMS
who "lives on his nerves," thinks that he knows better.
He thinks that Hell rages below his iron feet,
that that is why the shallow water is so warm,
and he knows that Heaven is not like this.
Heaven is not like flying or swimming,
but has something to do with blackness and a strong glare
and when it gets dark he will remember something
strongly worded to say on the subject.
They Turned Her Back
Bharati Kumari Sarabhai
They turned her back from the rich man's door,
The big northern guardsmen of the frontier,
Insolent told her-the noble mansion
Had been robbed by a stone mason woman,
A hag with sore swollen eyes and a baby, who
Passed through. that door three months ago
With a suspicious bundle of clothes on her head.
The beautiful, gracious lady ails inside,
Accidental hears of the villager's visit,
Sends for the attractive maid (she cannot
Be good, just look at her, the servants say)–
Quick to go, illuminate the old way
From the dark avenued portico fronts.
Between solicitous, slow feeding aunts
The rustic now sits on the ground quain tiled
With her first born, three year old buxom child.
-They are welcome, very welcome,
But how did they come?-
Oh they were posited in a bus two hours long,
They walked two miles and waited in the sun,
All through the morn and more than half the noon.
The buxom son, like a little barbarian
Has luminous eyes collyrium tinted,
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