Daily Routine

Every evening at 5.09
he leaves the office,
takes the streetcar
into town,
goes for a stroll
down to the park
by the canal;

there he sits
on the bench nearest
the ornate water fountain;

He dreams,
of a lost childhood
long summers ago
by the sea,
days filled with singing,
laughing and
crying;

Crying now,
the little girl
by the fountain
who has lost her way,
golden hair,eyes of grey,
reflected in his thick lenses;

As he watches her
he dreams,
of long summers ago,
a childhood by the sea
filled with laughing
and crying;

now in the park
he lies beneath a summer sky,
side by side with
the golden girl
and
she lies
very still.

3 thoughts on “Daily Routine

  1. VijayNair

    A set of carefully selected images leads us through a nostalgic tour, ending on a note of horror.Excellent.

    Reply
  2. Santosh

    simply loved this poem – how skillfully the nostalgic past and the present has been juxtaposed – the image of the little girl lying absolutely still sent shivers up my spine .. excellent !

    Reply

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