A poem a day







10. Burnt mustard

In micro pots I scattered chilly seeds a week ago 
sunflower a couple of days back
yesterday mustard

trying to push away a gift of space
suffusing the air with its acrid smell of loss

A vacuum sucks thoughts till I have none left 
to appraise
I am
water draining through loam
spring cleaning myself
though that feels like being robbed   

Arrivals are better at sustaining life
I hug and hold myself from draining out 
through the tiny holes in the pots

There is a creamy curry in a blackened dish
spoilt by attention wandering through
spicy sunflower fields

There too a smell of burnt seeds preceded me
The mustard hasn’t sprouted
yet it has claimed the breeze

©Reena Prasad


3 thoughts on “Burnt mustard

  1. This is perfectly lovely, Reena. Would you give us permission to post it on The Bardo Group for interNational Poetry Month? All credits, links, copyright as appropriate. I’ll return to look for your answer.

    We would need the pome, illustration, a photo of you or the one you use for your badge or gravatar and a brief bio. You can look at other posts to see what other contributors have put together.


    Thanks, Reena.

    Many blessing,


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