this spring
my balcony
a carpet of
estranged leaves
maid grumbles
the broom is
too short to
scurry the past
lunch break
with every morsel
winter tales
she recalls
her days in
refugee camp
gathering all the
left overs
I tell her
my roots
don't require
a visa
yet a dream ...
perhaps some day
I shall gather them all
twig-less leaves
weedless past
Shared with poets and storyrellers united
I am intrigued by a weedless past as this is no small achievement.
ReplyDeleteNo. It isn't. But we can always dream of one. Can't we?
ReplyDeleteYour poem is thought-provoking...my favorite kind of poetry. You are right about time ~ many things cannot be fixed no matter how long or how hard we try..
ReplyDeleteYes Helen. Thanks for your appreciation.
DeleteThis was a nice enjoyable writing for me. "my balcony a carpet of estranged leaves",
ReplyDeleteyour maid will be in trouble if she gets caught by management for sweeping them off
into the pretty grass. Oh yes, your ancestors needed papers to be here like her. Mine
came into New Orleans and some in Boston. The Corkhills came from the Isle of Man
but I don't know how they got here, first they settled in the Great Lakes regions,
..
I love your sense of humour Jim. Our entire heritage is based on papers. Isn't it strange?
DeleteA fascinating and endearing take on the prompt.
ReplyDeleteThanks Rosemary
DeleteThank you so much Rommy.
ReplyDeleteThank you so much Rommy
ReplyDeleteThis don't require a visa is so true
ReplyDeleteThis was thought-provoking for me. I love the contrast in it.
ReplyDeleteIs there such a thing as a 'weedless past'? Thought-provoking poetry Vandana.
ReplyDelete