A WOMAN CANNOT BE EXTINGUISHED
— Preeti Shah
My Mother was not molded from clay
she was not born spinning
from the world
of a pottery wheel
softening in the hands
of hardened men
only to see her come out from a kiln
silent or cracked.
My Mother was made from fire
blue rimmed charcoal eyes
words spilling like lava
even her first steps
were on embers
during the walk for Independence in India.
My Mother
free wild scathing
for any hand that wanted to learn
how fire bites.
