Monochrome movements on a wide glass screen-
A bright white sun, white robed delivery at a church.
Stooped black heads moving like ants in line,
But the chains were all human sized.
And the cloth sacks failed to hide whipped backs.
A long black train raced through the image noise,
Or maybe was its cause-
Exhaling black smoke along its way,
A thick burnt smell filled my thoughts
Mixed with blood and yellowed pages.
But let me breathe, unlike raging fire in marble hearths
At winter cities during lavish tours.
It let me breathe, unlike burnt red chillies in the neighbouring Granny’s kitchen.
Because, it was a story of the past,
And I was only watching black heads coughing at black smoke on a wide glass screen.
Via Daily Post: Delivery