Yesterday, I shook hands with a little lass..

Who had a floodlit smile to pass..

Her eyes had a flickering gleam..

She said, she had a ‘dream’.

I settled around the dusty park bench..

For curiosity to prominently quench..

I gave my name under the growling sky..

“I’m just a daughter” came her reply.

Indeed she was intrusive, interesting..

She seemed to be always monitoring..

It was dark and soon clouds brought rain..

Surprisingly, no petrichor filled the lane.

With no more score to set..

I felt at ease getting wet..

Her lips moved but weren’t audible..

Suddenly, the rain grew terrible.

I finally asked about her ‘aspiration’..

But she rectified it as ‘admiration”..

Her dream was to meet her mother..

She got sad and to me, it did bother.

I asked whether she passed from the human lot..

Her answer- “no, I did, she did not”..

Giving in and not acting clueless..

So that’s why the bench seemed weightless.

5 thoughts on “Weightless

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