Saturday, November 8, 2008

Hinged

The window shutters flap
in a state of hinged freedom.
There is a scraping noise
of the calender against the wall.

A looming darkness before rain
blurs the day into night.
People rush to close the doors
but she is outside, waiting for him.

Children start scanning the road
in both directions. They pester her
about him. She orders them
to go to bed.

Later, in the calm of that starry night
there's a relieving sound of the gate.
The children sleepwalk to him
and scold him for being late
as she starts arranging for dinner
with a smile reflecting in the steel plate.

4 comments:

Rukhiya said...

Thank you for saying he came in, late but he does. Thank you for that :)

Mahita said...

simple, yet beautiful...

Usha Pisharody said...

The distant unhinged feel to the characters lends an eerie feel.. :) But certainly the expression draws on in and it lingers. Evocative!

Sashu... said...

lovely :) simplicity in thought n emotions...it juz shines thru :)