Poetry by Dr. Pragya Suman

Bygones

Once I prised storeroom by iron bar

Hand shovel—laid in corner,

Grandfather scoops soil

Fragmented farmer in

Bawdy sun

Metal tar!

Known as a Sod,

I picked chips of white bone

Indiscernible under the round, reticent clod.

Warm whispers brought my Creator—

Chortles, though,

White doves are talk of

Bygones!

Dr. Pragya Suman is Doctor by profession, and she is posted in medical college. Literature is her passion. She is from India.