Lady Bangladesh

Lady Bangladesh

She wails sentimental
prayers on sweet and sour mornings.
Before running against the sun,
her face is broken bronze.
In between the banks of rice,
underneath her orange and red sari,
rivers run down her back as she gather grains.
Back home,
she has no curry stew to overlap what she gained
and no taka for fish.
But the water in her eyes conveys joy.



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