Ishaisms, Poetry

The Boatman Series (7) – The Boatman and the Tale of the Moneylender

Starless winter night, the cold, dark waters –
the stench of smouldering ashes in the atmosphere;
the pungent reek of the bloody and the bloodier,
greet the Moneylender when he returns to the harbour –
asking, “How now, Boatman, is that you by the pillar?” –
and nears him to examine his countenance clearer –
exclaiming gravely, “Though it’s me that’s dead, you seem no better” –
then sitting down upon the edge, stares at the sea in tormented terror.

“In my abode, there was a middle-aged worker,
little did I know, she was also a sneaky stealer…
To teach her a lesson, I handed her over to the jailor –
turns out, the rascal helped her escape by the river,
where she lived – the thief – hidden undercover.

In time, I let her be, but soon she sent me a killer,
I escaped, but not before stabbing her son in fiery anger –
yet how I came to die…has since been a blur…
it must have been, it must have been her…”

Β© Isha Garg

20 thoughts on “The Boatman Series (7) – The Boatman and the Tale of the Moneylender”

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