Those dirt I had

kept gathered for long

It has his remains 

and he had gone

His dirty T shirt 

I cannot afford to wash

His dirty plates 

he had last had dinner with me

and that dirty napkin

 he used before leaving

and that dirty sand 

from his  shoes 

which he left on my doormat 

while he was leaving

and that dress I wore 

when  he hugged last time

 is dirty now

but I just cannot wash

Those dirt I cannot loose

They help me to feel 

his tightness and warmth 

which I never allowed to get lost

Those dirt he left behind

is sacred for me

I have now a separate self 

to keep them all

Those two hangers

one had his T shirt 

and the other my dress

They sometimes hug 

to make me feel less depress

Those sugar left behind

in his plates

I daily smell 

and keep back in the self

when I wipe my face 

with that dirty napkin

I feel they wipe my sins

and those sand from his shoes

they gave birth to new ‘us’

My flowers in that pot 

never fail and  bloom

after all his immortal dirt they consume

Ganpati was formed 

by dirt from his mother parvati’s body

and I have my husband’s dirt 

and It never lets me feel 

that I am now alone and there is nobody

That accident changed my life,

all of a sudden he was gone

but his dirt I have kept sacred

and gathered for long

Purely imagination created this but I am aware of some similar stories,may be therefore I was able to imagine this . I know it came out to be so sad.. completely different from hopeful ones I write but feel good for that immortal love that she still cherish that lonely wife.

Happy reading 

yours loving warrior 

Naina