by Smeetha Bhoumik
Published on: Aug 13, 2005
Topic:
Type: Poetry

There was a song on her lips

a child in her arms

as palms outstretched,

she danced along the

scalding city streets -

where she belonged.


Here a right jig,

there a light prance,

In with the lights

and out with her alms;

she made a great show

of sheer bravado,

where none could have been !
(not for the urban-elite being ).

Did reverses

rope her in wings ?

despair

douse her flaming fears ?

I wondered some

accelerating,
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as the little debonair

receded into a tiny dot

in my blurred rear-view mind.


In the next change

I decided to CR&Y


Signing the cheque

with my first try

at being less a privileged on-looker

by opting out of

just one

Chinese dinner!









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