I never liked coming to hospital where always brothers run busy with the tray or trolly with scissors, fast-aids- No hand is there to push in the handle to push the old man tries to move forward the wheelchair in the hospital's long neck corridor White dressed nurse's beautiful smile injects under my skin I see how she leaves the room swooping up her skirt Pale wind of the old fan blows away red crescent curtain in my cabin the black cat always sits in the corner and she looks at me suspiciously yet indifferent we measure each other from a distance I hate the smell of bandage and phenyl which like the smell of roaming spirits who are whispering always to take the soul out of the body I see the black c a t and her green suspicious eyes ..........
Death let her move like the black reeds of piano as if someone deafly playing symphony 9 I forgot to wear the long stalking my naked legs stood up to dance alone in the white sky I was knowing how the feathers of wings coming out from my back to fly and fly to unknown I failed every time folding my wings inside again and again to become ashes I forgot every time my last born!
Bio: Shafinur Shafin, Bangladeshi Poet but currently residing in India for study purpose. Her poems have been published in various online magazine such as Expound, Period etc. She is the poetry editor of Prachya Review, a webzine. She lives in a world of words.