Poem
Arvind Krishna Mehrotra
To an Unborn Daughter
To an Unborn Daughter
To an Unborn Daughter
If writing a poem could bring youInto existence, I’d write one now,
Filling the stanzas with more
Skin and tissue than a body needs,
Filling the lines with speech.
I’d even give you your mother’s
Close-bitten nails and light-brown eyes,
For I think she had them. I saw her
Only once, through a train window,
In a yellow field. She was wearing
A pale-coloured dress. It was cold.
I think she wanted to say something.
© 1998, Arvind Krishna Mehrotra
From: The Transfiguring Places
Publisher: Ravi Dayal, New Delhi
From: The Transfiguring Places
Publisher: Ravi Dayal, New Delhi
Poems
Poems of Arvind Krishna Mehrotra
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To an Unborn Daughter
If writing a poem could bring youInto existence, I’d write one now,
Filling the stanzas with more
Skin and tissue than a body needs,
Filling the lines with speech.
I’d even give you your mother’s
Close-bitten nails and light-brown eyes,
For I think she had them. I saw her
Only once, through a train window,
In a yellow field. She was wearing
A pale-coloured dress. It was cold.
I think she wanted to say something.
From: The Transfiguring Places
To an Unborn Daughter
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