Thursday, December 6, 2007



To My Husband

At sixteen, I thought
that Dido was dumb
to throw herself upon a pyre
when Aeneas sailed away
from Carthage,
leaving her distraught,
burning with
love’s fire.
Indian women too,
I thought bizarre,
when I heard they
engaged in suttee
after their husbands had
left for their eternity.
But now I understand why
they wanted to die,
for, without you, my love,
I’d want to expire,
though not in a fire.

No comments: