One woman walks in a hurry sobbing,

A house with faded paint on her head.

One woman goes on waiting at

A railway station where no train stops.

One woman with a halo of glow worms

Walks in the dark towards the stars

One woman makes sure her wings are in place

Before she launches herself into a flight

One woman steps into a cornfield in drought

With a raincloud on her shoulder.

One woman sings a song making a fruit tree

In autumn burst into blossoms

One woman glints like a spark of fire in the ashes

Of her little house set on fire

One woman scoops up her baby and flees to the border

Watching a fighter-jet swoop down

One woman sharpens the letters of the alphabet

And pulls out the fangs of the enveloping dark

One woman closes the door of her house with a bang,

Walks out and hums a medley on the street

One woman looks at the image of Jesus on the cross

And yells in agony, “Son, my darling son!”

One woman leaves her man on the panel

In Khajuraho and finds her pleasure herself.

One woman, her muscles hardening as I look on,

Turns into a goddess of iron and fire

One woman sharpens her sickle again and again

Rubbing it against a rock in a forest stream.

One woman climbs up a tank and offers

Flowers to soldiers with the moon’s smile

One woman tired of her life on earth leaves for space

In a vehicle made of her own bones

One man stands aghast on the roadside

Too scared to cross the road