Saturday, June 19, 2010


Do you remember who taught you
Your first word
Or what it was?
The universal one
Spoken must be "mother"
Followed by other kin,
Then birds come in,
They help you finish your meals.
Crows are your frequent companions
And eat half as much as you do
And raise a racket
While at it,
Sparrows prefer grains
You never saw such nervous eaters,
Moons, themselves looking so edible,
Like orange slices
Or ripe fruit or appalam
Watched you at dinner.
The fund of words keeps growing
Some you know you cannot use everywhere
Some you can only when you write.
Many words die from disuse
Many you have ignored, like once close friends,
Refuse to answer your call.
I'm now losing them
Like a deciduous tree.
I can only watch
As they leave and reappear
Like domestic help
At other homes.

No comments: