Poetry

That Mohair Scarf

26 Comments

Ckonfab

Every week day he waited,
at the train station for her to come,
So that he can see one glimpse of her,
before his day begun.

That day she didn’t come for a long time,
He craned his neck in all direction,
To get her dwindled sight.

And when he was busy,
Prying the crowded path,
Her distinct fragrance,
His senses caught.

He turned around with an anxious heart,
Her mohair scarf gently brushed his eyes,
And by the time he could got rid of the blind,
She was long gone.

Copyright © Shantanu Baruah

View original post

Advertisements

26 thoughts on “That Mohair Scarf”

Leave a Reply to Shantanu Baruah Cancel reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

Gravatar
WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. ( Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. ( Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. ( Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. ( Log Out /  Change )

Cancel

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.