Partition 1947, a poem by Duane L Herrmann at Spillwords.com
Joshua Olsen

Partition 1947

Partition 1947

written by: Duane L Herrmann

 

My aunt arrived in rags
and cousin too,
but they were alive.
Trains arrived
all passengers dead
didn’t make the news
too many dead to care.
Fortunately, my aunt
had been able to sew
some jewels in hiding
that were not searched.
Muslim neighbors gone,
they moved in.
Just ten, I
didn’t understand
tragic circumstance
as our nation split
with too many dead.

 

NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR:

As Punjabi, not English was his first language, Daljit Jawa asked for my assistance in writing his memoir. I did so gladly. This poem, and a short story published elsewhere, is based on an experience he related to me. The train loads of people who arrived dead were simply trying to comply with the political division of their country. No one knows how many died. I felt they should be remembered in some way. This poem tries to do that.

Duane L Herrmann

Duane L Herrmann

A reluctant carbon-based life-form, Herrmann was surprised to find himself on a farm in Kansas. He’s still trying to make sense of that, but has grown fond of grass waving under wind, trees and the enchantment of moonlight. He aspires to be a hermit, but would miss his children, grandchildren and a few friends. His work has been published in print and online, even some of both in languages he can’t read (English is difficult enough!). These include a sci fi novel, seven collections of poetry, a local history, stories for children, a book on fasting, plus other works. He has carried baby kittens in his mouth, pet snakes, and has conversations with owls, but is careful not to anger them! All this, and degrees in education and history, despite a traumatic, abusive childhood embellished with dyslexia, ADHD (both unknown at the time), cyclothymia, an anxiety disorder and, now, PTSD.
Duane L Herrmann

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