wildscape. literary journal

Portrait of Grief as a Medical Procedure
by Sukriti Patny

I am nestled in the red eyes 
of a mottled wood owl perched 
on a ghost tree as a pack of doctors 
work on my body. They scrape 
away mechanically, emptying
my uterus, products of conception
evacuated safely, thoroughly. 
But what of this enormous guilt? 
What of these compound eyes 
that see everything, that can see 
me burying it between my ribs? 
What of this broken heart 
that has never beaten the same since? 


A Note On This Poem: 
This poem is born out of one of the most painful experiences I have been through. I've used erasure as a tool on this poem to depict the effect of time on grief. With time, I have learnt that grief remains - there is no way to escape or eradicate it. But if we give it time, we learn to live around it, to live inside it, and to live in spite of it. 


I am nestled in the red eyelids 
of a mottled wood owl perched 
on a ghost tree as a pack of doctors 
work on my body. They scrape 
away mechanically, emptying
my uterus, products of conception
evacuated safely, thoroughly. 
But what of this enormous guilt? 
What of these compound eyes 
that see everything, that can see 
me burying it between my ribs? 
What of this broken heart 
that has never beaten the same since? 

about the author // Sukriti Patny