(From my poetry Collection 'Signatures')
A dumb little
girl
True, I was much
melted but plough and
bullocks
and the barking of
a lonely
dog
prevented reaching that
little girl who
couldn’t
speak.
She wipes her
forearm over her
mouth.
So tenderly, she
moved
her lips;
something like
sowing sorrow
I wished her to
smile
but she didn’t
like to.
My mobile phone
tried a snap;
she ran far away
like
a memory,
leaving
a thorn
in my
mind
Vaiyavan
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