Poem began on a sneeze,
Went Aaaaachoooo! A sparrow paused in flight
And almost said – Hello,
Before it flew on.
The heat thaw as the pomegranate
Let the breeze flit through chintz
Until it (the breeze and not the pomegranate)
Lost its head
Tickled my ear, tousled my hair,
Tickled my nose, tricked me again,
Even as I held my pen
And out came
A sudden Aaaaaachooo.
A sparrow paused for a split second
And glanced at me through the window
As if to say hello,
I am getting used to this…
If you tell me the seasons
And locales do not tally,
Let me remind you
That the pomegranate flower is fluffy,
Crimson and fiery orange,
But the seeds are sweet.
Squirrels steal bits off raw fruit,
And then the breeze, it swirls across,
Tickles my thoughts,
Tousles my hair, the burlap curtains,
Such makeshift sails, oh what adventure!
Awaits me as I cast off the anchors,
And then a sparrow pauses, mid-air
Looks at me as it flits off, before
I am aah- Aaaachoooo!
I have gotten used to this crazy situation
Called poetic allergic rhinitis:
As if programmed to be with
Breeze, tree, pomegranate, sparrow, me and here comes
Riding through my ribs,
Blessed me, blessed you
Blessed sparrow and the blessed breeze
Madras Courier originally ran as a broadsheet with a poetry section. It was a time when readers felt comfortable sharing glimpses of their lives through verse. If you too have a poem you’d like to submit, do email us at email@example.com.
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