Saved every fifty paisa
as the empty green bus
wend its way
I could feel my sock
curve below my ankles
my feet out of the shoe
My imagination a
canvas
a collage
ideas , pictures , hugs
,bonds
I pirouette on the sand
draw perfect circles on
the sandy mud
kick each pebble like
snooker balls
on a blank road
neighbourly dogs sniff
my box , lick my face
say hello
Each house an unopened
book waiting to unfold
I leap up high to pluck
the Gardeners Trumpet
waiting to toot like a cat
on the brown brick wall
My pig tails one still
obedient braided ,
the other untamed let
loose
I clink open that metal
lick, the yellow gate
swings open
tramp the yard
sit on the third cold step
dreaming, plotting,
planning, visualizing
of her in a pink sari
By shyla