06/04/2021
A Poem for These Days
When all of this is done,
there will be lighter rooms
and heavier hearts,
the table set, out of habit,
for those who will no longer come,
slowly but surely,
a day will appear,
ordinary
school buses will ply,
a gaggle of children spilling out,
lovers sit conspicuously close
upon a park bench,
office goers rush about,
as they do,
an assumed seriousness,
for anyone who might be looking,
and crowds throng,
restaurants, bars, the cinema,
as before,
as before the time
we no longer speak of
somewhere a doctor
will close his clinic at five
and get in a round of golf
before dinner,
a funeral service will have a slow day,
a wily entrepreneur will wonder
how to put his empty ambulances to use,
a nurse will quietly knit at work
under her desk
and when we meet those whom we love,
we will linger,
a little bit longer,
even laugh,
at jokes that aren’t very funny,
praise indifferent food,
and forget perhaps,
old slights that now are
from before the time,
quietly grateful for touch
sometimes, unexpectedly
we will meet another’s eyes
only for a moment; and know,
in our shared silence,
we lived through that time
It would have taken away much,
our own,
strangers, a part of ourselves,
who we were
from before the time,
but we will know,
we are here now, and for that day,
it will be enough.
— Nandini Sen Mehra
(An Indian origin poet based in Singapore)