MA (March 27,1951 / India)


An ailing parent
Sitting alone,
By the telephone,
For a call
From his errant son.

Hoping it might ring,
Knowing he has long since
Been forgotten.

Watching the rain
Face tear stained,

Is it time
To move on,
But how is it done
With your own
Flesh and blood?

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Comments (5)

mamtaji, true feelings of every parent......... how can that emptiness be removed? poetry is nothing in front of that pain....... thanks........
Iam in agreement with VIDI! Though feeling are well expressed! - RAJ
we suffer loneliness with our own flesh and blood…this gap is difficult to fill… sensitive lines drawing the anxiety of the parent contrasted with the recklessness of the son… Abha
They look at sky and utter, ‘why not showering on us’ Have you forgotten us? Am I a sinner to die dry? May be they opted to stay in a desert. Come out of shackles of personal bonds You find thousands who are in need of you Don’t cry for those who don’t need you. This is a bit harsh but the truth We hop within a circle Love is not limited. It has no circled boundary Just make our way out from those who we think are near. However, yes it’s a great pain, A Loneliness. Emotional.
Poignant poem with the ring of truth...Coach