Photo Essay —

THE MOURNING FOREST

Gently — so gently — with care

He curled up in bed,

And the mourning forest said —

'Crawl back to your shell',

Oh, bed! — snug and warm;

He tugged, hugged her close

And I crawled into bed,

Oh, bed! — of barbed wire;

He slithered through her sleep,

She writhed in her dream,

Barbs — stinging my purulent sores,

Steaming them, until just tender;

And her wonder eyes opened

Still floating in longing dream,

With lonely molten frozen tears

I smelled my burning scars,

Only going through the motions

Hustling old habits, he asked —

Do I feel the pain?

Half conscious — numb in cold?

'Who are you thinking of?'

Deep breaths — I'm almost there,

Yet to reach — though near;

With more breaths to breathe

Through the night's darkest hue,

She could only say —

'Not you'.

—Poem: Dyutiman Mukhopadhyay, February 2021.

The pictures were taken on April 12, 2023.

Galibore Nature Reserve, Karnataka, India.

Camera—Canon 60 D.

PS. The title is inspired from Naomi Kawase’s 2007 Japanese film The Mourning Forest (殯の森, Mogari no mori).