flows steadily
it is next, the one
after and goes
like a chain unending.
Mine is getting busier
day by day, running from
one end to the other
for the reasons familiar
a requirement.
It is a chase, I should
say, almost fanatic,
for what I have to admit,
an effort to earn revenue
to keep the hearth burning.
Apprehensive of properties
slip off from hold, I keep
vigil. If I take life easier
fortunes will desert me
having lost a considerable,
I am a backpacker,
travelling in all modes
fly, sail, drive, Doing all
possibilities except walking
which has become difficult.
So, away I am , nowhere
for a long time. Unorganized,
mixing the one for the other,
a sojourn crowded with
confrontations and complications.
Meenas Poems 