Winter woods

Lonesome tree, withering in winters, almost dead, beneath that misty grey shroud, surviving with summer in its heart and sighing with h...

Wednesday, March 30, 2016

Us together

Forever beside,
like spring in spirit and heart,
at our worst and best.

The ringing phone

It is one of those few times
when I get to listen to my ringtone.
I tend to forget the tone,
so, the incoming ring resounds
for some time, quite some time.
Lengthily, I recognize the tune,
then rush to respond,
before the phoner disconnects,
only to receive shrill sound
of someone trying to sell property
to unknown somebody.
Politely, I inform
of not being the person
they were trying to connect to,
like countless previous times
in thirty-eight months.
Discussion ends.
Screen unlits, stripped of light,
but my eyes rest there, fixed.
Couldn't you phone me erroneously?
Even once?

Linking with Thin Spiral Notebook: 100 words: A minus

Saturday, March 26, 2016


My mother is packing my bag,
because I am too lazy to do it myself,
and because I stack things in a horrifying manner,
and also because deep down she knows,
I am being dramatic;
That my postponing this exercise
will not change the fact
that I have to leave tonight.
My father is hovering around
hiding a green apple or two,
or maybe mandarins this time,
between the folds of my clothes,
our protests notwithstanding,
And I am staring at the
fluttering list of holidays.
All my bags packed,
I leave an important part of me behind – my heart.

Monday, March 21, 2016

Drowsy dreams

The tender envelop of mild breeze
at the borderline of
instant spring and impending summer,
sprawling spread of green hills,
serpentine dirt pavements woven around them,
sparkling sky, just the right shade of blue,
chirping birds and chattering monkeys,
broad daylight soaking my room
with quiescent tranquil repose,
drifting in and out of slumbers,
the low hum of washing machine,
the whistling pressure cooker,
the sweeping susurrations of broom,
and "wake up" insistence of mother.
A shrill alarm dissipates the trickery.
Irritant of reality inflicts the oculus.
Drowsy dreams,
drunk on nostalgia, sigh heavily.
Astir, beneath a foreign roof.

Linking with: Thin Spiral Notebook: 100 word challenge: Dream