Mid Summer Noon’s Dreams
The station of mid noon is desolate;
the platform is really a flowing stream
waves of shining sun sweeps him away.
The aged porter’s face grows expectant
till the man nods who says, “to the cabs.”
Sky is so sad once you are outside;
like the trace of smile you have wiped
because you are heavy with unease .
still you have told the neighborhood girl ,
“I have a job now. In a new city.
We can see the line of start, let’s run.”
A taciturn taximan drives.
You are half seeing the warm city. Yet a cold
shower he is in, drenched in fear;
fear has a face; it resembles
his own looks in the eyes of his girl.
He is not going to fail her for once.
For once he can swim upstream;
settle his star inside a glass pot.
He whispers, “To the Fortune street, cab.”
© 2009 - All Rights Reserved Kushal Poddar
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Comments: 45
I've been this person. Thanks for bringing him back to me.
Thanks for posting to my group, Anythingwriting
such a marvelous piece of poetry !! *smiles*
Hugs, Barbie
Outside the Reservation !! *smiles*
Hugs, Barbie
his own looks in the eyes of his girl."
Hugs.
Featured in the Triple Name Club.
Blessings and best wishes - S.
Thank you for posting this to The Surreal Circus. Congratulations on your well-deserved feature in Kathryn's group.
Sorry for the generic post, but my box is a bit overloaded so I am trying to catch up.