Sun
(To Robert)
I look at my palm a piece of sun
has settled on it, like butterfly…
carefully I close my palm, curl it.
The train carrying me to the weekend
from the city to the place I was born.
In my closed fist is the sun caught in.
Stations move backwards. Nature increases.
The stranger who is on the facing seat
becomes a friend after exchanges
of views and glimpses. The sun caught
in my fist sweats; at last when
my stoppage arrives I open palm
and believe me my sun is melted
and nothing to differ from the sun
roaming over the platform. I look at
the new friend who is taking the place
of sun, my own and personal.
=© 2009 - All Rights Reserved Kushal Poddar


Comments: 56
Thank you so very much for posting to the New Stuff groups! Here to view comment and rate.
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lovely little escapade on a train!
glitter-graphics.com
thanks for posting to my group, Anythingwriting
But you and the sweet madame have got me all emotional. You did it here and she did it there ---> September Dreaming – My Thanks to Madame Missu >
God bless you both!
That's great Poddar.
Blessings and best wishes - S.
Robert, some hidden element of you, recognizable but undefinable, is captured in these words. How lovely.
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Thank you for posting this to The Surreal Circus.
Thanks for posting in Journey Into Poetry !
I did so enjoy this poem. It has been said about me that I have never met a stranger. I like you would start up a conversation and become friends instead of strangers.