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බූන්දියට එන පාර

වයර් දිගේ- boondionline@gmail.com | ගොළුඛෙලි තැපෑලෙන්- බූන්දියේ අපි, 190/3/A, කැන්දලියැද්දපාළුව, රාගම.

Followers



In an unknown land,
Far from the native's hand,
Yours was the only hands I knew.
Your tight grasp, yet placid soft,
like petals that a cuckoo bird kissed.

Dangling on the clouds above
there was a moon for sure
Anyone could name it
a crescent, a sickle
or a curved parabola
Though Mama you called it
The Chilli Moon

Daddy’s typical diet..
Of veggies with sweet peas,
For us bear cubs
kirihodi, salmon, white cheese.
why did you have
green chillies Mama
around that fawn plate
Was it your only taste

I was almost a teen
You just ended forties
Over the funeral parlour
the same moon was peeking
I wouldn’t say its weeping,
Weeping Willows not weeping.
Cause you’d been invited
to see Almighty God

Now I'm with a beard,
Daddy doesn’t even care.
The Chilli moon so bare...
I can’t help but care,

The shine burns my throat
Just like a hot Meat Ball
where it’s stuck in deep
and demanding me to breathe.
There are strange hiccups
tell me Mama
am I going mute?

What could be the reason?
my own gravity was lost
in that fully void moment
Under the waning chilli moon.


June 2011

සුභද්‍රා ජයසුන්දර



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