The train lurch its way to a known destination
Outside islands-neighborhoods appear and disappear
The train stops at one station
And then at another
As if to judge the aspect of the defeated contenders--the island-neighborhoods
Inside the train a sea of
gadget holding women tapping their
toes to inaudible music.
And in their middle there I sit
Just another face
thinking of the train and myself
on my way back home.
2 comments:
Barnali, this is such a touching poem. A sense of being alone in a crowd permeates through. 'tapping their toes to inaudible music'...beautiful!
nice one.
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