Thursday, March 09, 2006

Sita

after the trial
by the fire
it was all ashes.

any excuse was fine;
a dhobi’s word
or a brahmin’s word.

it did not matter;
the palace
or the forest.

i knew my sons would
grow away
to become kings.

my only refuge
was the earth
that swallowed me whole.

for so many Sitas that i meet everyday.