Hand Over

We three, the milder versions 
 of our older siblings, keep 
close to each other.

Once playing in the lawns 
of our house in a hill station,
 perceive  two figures  trotting.

could not make out from a distance,
we cling to each other, what could it be? 
each one of us come with  interpretations,.

The youngest, too small, knows 
to talk few words, cries “tiger, tiger”,
 nudging close to me.

the other one  whispers,
” no. it is a ghost”, being 
the big sister, I turn responsible 

calm them down, while 
 my heart flutters with fear. Again,
we hear the sound of the hoofs

coming towards us. Holding our breath
we stand still staring at the direction.
A deer and  its fawn start running

seeing us. negotiate elegantly 
through the bends disappear 
into the forest behind.

We go back home
 devoid of fear, having  transferred 
 ours to the mother and kid.