They burnt my father and my grandfather
just next to this dust track.
Perhaps they burnt all the dead people in the village
just next to this dust track.
When we go along the dust track
we can still find broken pots, old winnowing baskets
and shrouds on the nearby date-palm trees.

Coming this far
after so long
it’s become impossible not to shoulder a cremation ground.
If I wish to shift the burden on to another
he too is shouldering a cremation ground –
I am searching for one who hasn’t turned into a cremation ground.