Change

I

they sat in the office.

a floral tobacco brown coloured room

across a table crammed with papers,

and an open diary.

let’s amend this –

precisely at noon.  a darkened sun,

the sky hanging wearily aloft

and he was in high esteem.

but dearest… the polemic nature

of behaviour noted for a minute;

beautifully written poems, translated

stanza by stanza, weakened by

brutal plagiarism; change in words few

but altogether natural, good.

now the playground rumours weigh

heavy like  a 20 Kilo sack of rice

balancing on that curly head.

by such arrangement grappling boys

is forbidden in time set apart

from learning. even if sin is a lie,

this assimilation fail 

calls for dense love…

II

freezing stares taper the air.

old nails and wrinkled hand tear down

papers pinned to the wall and crumpled

in that fastidious palm. She hurled them

into the metal bin making a din,

the heart’s blood freezing –

a grandeur deplored forever; the pen

amongst the best worked for hours

kindling the passion of peers –

shattered.  a brooding instruction laced

the sternest glance and a pointed finger

heaving him out the half opened door;

the Arctic frosted glass glazed his reflection –

the feeling, the dream,

equitable to salt water repetitively tasted on the tongue,

trickling away a dream.

  Change

Change

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