Quiet and empty terms
left hanging in mid-air.
The moment lingers, each
trying hard to prolong,
a second that calls for
an utterance from either.
The silence is awkward.
Like that of strangers'
first tryst, on chance.
And, those estranged ones
reuniting, their exchanges
heavy with past refrains.
Voices being cleared audibly,
a flurry of hand movements,
some coffee from the cup spilled,
or a metal fork drops,clanging.
Distractions notwithstanding,
the stillness still stays.
Glances and false starts,
some nervous little laugh,
on a pity of an old joke.
A discoure on the weather
and whether it will change,
jaded matter at the outset.
Each in their own thoughts,
trying too hard, too much
to ignore or to be involved.
Will deal with those demons
later in solitude, now dispense
with the tidings on hand.
The conversation haltingly begins,
faltering at places and pauses.
Sighs and relieved smiles on the side.
Episodes of small disomfiture
encroach slowly. Caught unawares,
the voices fall to a humming, tuneless.
The dialogue dips further down,
words refuse any refuge,
cunning allies of this quiet.
You flail and flounder oft
and yet fail at your attempts.
The conversation dangles yet,
you stay on, seeking sanctuary...
P.S : For Chetan, who didn't know, what to do..
This is what i meant in my comment on your frog tale in the other post. So many times we all would have come to a situation where words fail to come and there is a silence, awkward but persistent. You have described it in a very beautiful way...."The moment lingers, each trying to prolong, a second that calls for an utterance from either"....nice
ReplyDeletethough there are few words which hinder the flow for me, but thats nothing on the overall poem. Its very visual...good job lady.
(Sigh!)
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