Seared and Singed

Anushka Bhartiya posted under Poetry

It’s the same whiff Of something burning Too long on the stove. When what could be delicious Turns into almost inedible Right under my nose. The stench is strong But not revolting As I thought it would be. It brings a scent of nostalgia Wrapping me tightly In its death grip. Because Ma too burned The okra and the cabbage Simmering on the stove. For it’s not the smell But what it brings along With it, the unending woe.   Penmancy gets a small share of every purchase you make through these links, and every little helps us continue bringing you the reads you love!