Thursday, February 15, 2007

Letter to The Summer House

Nibbling the path
From my home to yours
Salting my hair
With pickled memories,
I see The Summer House
Now, dog territory.

The wind tempts
Thoughts of you.
Fallen bougainvilleas
Stamped to dust.
Rickety cycles.
Words - cigarette hushed.
The winding pathway
A soundless song,
A letter crushed.

Dear you,
Thoughts are light
Like rice flakes.
Memories, heavy
Like dew.
I’m not lonely,
Neither are you.
We like
Shoe soles are
Never together.
Only a step ahead
Of each other.

12 comments:

  1. This one is not very good. Or may be I am not supposed to say it here where everybody reads. I'm sorry :(

    ReplyDelete
  2. Anonymous, this is a blog.
    You can say what you feel.

    I don't think this one is good either. I put it here hoping people will say something about it that might help me. I put it here simply because it has the thought I want to say, eventhough it says it badly.

    ReplyDelete
  3. what shit, this one is good...

    ReplyDelete
  4. hee hee!

    Aneesh thats how your wife will be happy.

    ReplyDelete
  5. But I really like the last part.

    ReplyDelete
  6. Kunal> With what? the comments? the poem?

    ReplyDelete
  7. oh..the words, your words...

    ReplyDelete
  8. on afterthoughts... 14th august 2008 to be precise, i love it!

    ReplyDelete

Try not be anonymous, leave a cryptic initial.