Saturday, 14 April 2012
Why don’t we sit outside
The first time they looked and look
Now they sit. ‘Can I have the usual Please’.
The feminine one pours her speech
The toned brown eyes smiles and sieves.
Once a week they meet to laugh
To dance away the trifle of life.
To cut the edges - trim, trim.
‘Oh, its already time to leave.’
‘Today, why don’t we sit outside?’
Sitting sideways, normally face to face
The feminine one turns; head down.
The toned brown eyes tries to look in her eyes.
She speaks with purple scented Iris words -
‘Our afternoon song we can no longer sing.’
The tears will not rise, not tonight. The joy will outlast the thickened dismissal of my confession. The misgiving of ...