The saree was old now
Frayed at ends
Threads coming loose
The puritan white no longer blinded
Its dazzle disappeared after a single wash
The golden border no longer gilded
Its shine dulled after repeat usage

The saree was old now
Threadbare to the T
Molded like skin
The blouse no longer fitting
It Hung like the great old wedding coat
The safety secured with rusted pins
Its buttons long gone

Why then did the sorrow not diminish
Swirling around its aura
Why then the pain of that loss
Wreathed itself in the wrinkles
Why then did the bewildered hurt still show
Twirling in thought over bygone discriminations
Why then did breaths not come easy

Why then did my muse still stand
Swaying in the train as if she lost someone last morn