The Boat
- a Poem
- by Vinitta Mathew
The grimy rather tired rosary
waiting for resurrection
on a once purple bike
The ripples playing music
that only I heard
easing inner turmoils
My bored fingers
tormenting the poor ticket
Bright orange life jackets
huddled close, out of breath themselves
The bobbing bulbous hyacinth,
breaks monotony now and then
A little island of waterbirds
at peace with their cottony alter egos.
Somebody’s calloused heel
Somebody’s slick new sandals
Somebody’s pride of place rucksack
Somebody’s unblinking stare
None of it mattered though
For the boat was taking me to you.
Vinitta Mathew
from Thiruvananthapuram, in Kerala, India, writes for a living, to stay sane and to make sense of the chaos around. Vinitta has a master’s in mass-communication and is currently in the throngs of birthing a book of poems and that perfect self-obit! Her works have been featured in the Wingword Poetry Prize 2019 and on TheDelhiwalla website.
