There be a dialogue
cannot call it a dialogue
it is a monologue
a conversation between two
where the one is slow
the other one more garrulous
talks all the more meaningless
tells of her beauty in no ordinary terms
while the quieter one listens with a firm
the talkative goes on and on with no break
the silent spectator stares at him without a take
the eyes get tired and wink now and then
the mouth never minces a word in strength
the dialogue turns into a monologue
happens all the time whenever I log
that be the way along the stream
where one glitters with a gleam
the other shines with a dream.
Meenas Poems 