A poem by Kamala Das.......

MY MOTHER AT SIXTY SIX

Driving from my parent's home to Cochin last Friday morning, I saw my mother, beside me,
dose, open mouthed, her face was ashen like that of a corpse and realized with pain
that she was as old as she looked out at young
Trees sprinting, the merry children spilling out of their homes, but after the security check,
standing a few yards away,
i looked again at her, wan, pale as a late winters moon and felt that old familiar ache, my childhood's fear,
but all i said was, see you soon Amma,
all i did was smile and smile and smile...



by
Kamala Das