Elegy

The year 2020, mid December,

The last moon rose, I thought.

My eyes closed under the glowing

Winter light, branches bathed

It seemed in a ghastly moonlight.

‘The end seems near.’

My mind repeatedly regurgitated.

Unceasingly the  machine beeped

In the  hospital,

Shattering the last of my silences.

I thought I’d pray, if I were to have

A moment of serenity, but the machine

Seemed to be hiccuping- its last beeping sounds.

Would it live if I were dead?

Who’s to tell but the moon 

• That watches over thousand souls.

© Mumtaz N Khorakiwala

5-1-2021