It Being The Day

one of great travail
where no work is done
still poses a tedium.

Exhausted I turn,
with sweat in the forehead,
perspiring with a sigh
as the sun draws to noon.

The skin becomes dry
Hands and feet give up
I am fallen. Trodden
by the extreme heat.

Air conditioners, fans
prove no match to the warmth.
Forecasts say this will continue
for few more days.

It will be dog day,
I drink pot full
bathe thrice, I cannot
smother the parchment.

As age catches up
the rigour is unbearable,
I stand without ease
no other way I could,


By meenas17

A lover of classical Carnatic music.
An avid reader, passionate writer, into stocks and investments for livelihood

Leave a Reply

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

You are commenting using your 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 )

Connecting to %s

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