For Shagufta Parveen
I shrink to myself when I think
Of the pain she might have felt
While lying there on the railway track
Which took her to nowhere
After being everywhere
In the clouds of easy smoke
Which could be produced
After burning cheap tobacco,
In the gatherings
Of no brave yet hollow men,
In the reddening of the eyes
Of people who had embraced
Death of their desires long ago.
I shrink to myself when I think
Of the people who had held
Her index finger and led her
To the dead track
Where she breathed her last,
Friends, friends were those
Who made her dance naked
With flower‒bands around her wrists
I shrink to myself when I see the blood
Of her metaphors flowing through
The veins of my empty poems
Struggling in the darkness
To survive the death on another rail track.
Copyright 2019 Ramsha Ashraf
Ramsha Ashraf is a poet and playwright from Pakistan. She was a 2017 resident at the International Writing Program at the University of Iowa.