A take on
Ecce Puer by James Joyce.( An old man is gone)
An Old Man
Is Gone
Triple Pillar
of the house is gone.
An Octogenarian, stentorian in voice,
Is gone. Gone
in sleep.
Nothing to grieve, for when he breathed his last,
It was all peaceful
and calm.
Yet, a matter of neglect and repent is that
paddy from his
field,
Hitherto not supplied came in bulks
and gunny
bags. A delayed matter,
he was deprived
of this rightful claim,
sad irony, some people don’t enjoy,
don’t get,
during their lifetime
what they deserve. But now
the
matter of recompense
is that
A calf
is born, where the man is gone.
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