I think of those days
when time governed me
my sons in school
the honking of the school bus,
they running to the gate
I going behind them
with the lunch basket
it is all chaos, the roof
coming down in the morning.
That of now, I am in bed
till seven in the morning,
rise up, making myself
presentable walk towards
the gate pick up the papers
watch the kids get into the bus,
smiling I return to my porch
hear silence, the roof remains
intact without any precipitation
Meenas Poems 