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Poem

Kunwar Narain

Description of the Missing One




Wheat-coloured, a peasant’s ways,
scarred brow,
height not under five feet,
talks like he’s never known grief.

Stammering,
if you ask his age, he’ll tell you –
several thousand years, give or take a few . . .
Seems crazy, but isn’t.
Has fallen off high places more than once,
and got all broken up, so

looks glued together,
like the map of India.

DESCRIPTION OF THE MISSING ONE

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Description of the Missing One




Wheat-coloured, a peasant’s ways,
scarred brow,
height not under five feet,
talks like he’s never known grief.

Stammering,
if you ask his age, he’ll tell you –
several thousand years, give or take a few . . .
Seems crazy, but isn’t.
Has fallen off high places more than once,
and got all broken up, so

looks glued together,
like the map of India.

Description of the Missing One




Wheat-coloured, a peasant’s ways,
scarred brow,
height not under five feet,
talks like he’s never known grief.

Stammering,
if you ask his age, he’ll tell you –
several thousand years, give or take a few . . .
Seems crazy, but isn’t.
Has fallen off high places more than once,
and got all broken up, so

looks glued together,
like the map of India.
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