This heart is still tricoloured, as always
but it does flutter at half-mast these days.
Whatever may be raised – in stone, in brick,
in pride, revenge, tit for tat politics –
in time all will be levelled. Nothing stays.
Neither your chair, nor my personal grief,
not these elaborate cons, these strange motifs,
the deluge of tinsel and marigold
the optics, the updates tightly controlled,
will ultimately fade. Our time is brief.
As uncertain as it is – who’ll outlast
whether you, I, or the heart at half-mast -
it’s quite clear this pseudo justice can’t stick
mills have an odd habit of being cyclic
and fates are fickle, hardly ever steadfast.
Greetings on Independence Day to all those who are observing it this month. Not sure about using the word 'celebrating' with all the various on-going challenges.