Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Left alone on the highway
Close to the high rise
Two Banyan trees
Alone, yet side by side
Branches stretched upwards, towards the sky
The birds make nests
Birthing sweet melodies
Every morning as the sun crests

Dusty in summer
Their life spared
Reminiscing times
Of the forest  
That was thriving green

Missing the younger ones
And many a comrades
Deemed unimportant
As trees
Who lost the battle
To the concrete
This thought has always haunted me.

People you meet once
and never again in your life.

You have a static picture in your mind
of their face
the small conversation
their little story they tell you
the place you met them
in a bus, a shop, on the road
interactions not long
but meaningfully small
yet leaving a memory in you.

I think of all those people
I stopped by to ask for time
seek direction of my destination
or asking where I might find
food or a resting place
in an unfamiliar area.

Once and just once you meet them.

On a summer trip, I was looking for icecream
in a strange place off the highway
walked ten minutes to find a shop
where for that brief encounter
the seller made me feel like
he had known me for long
shared the history of that area
the migration and culture of the residents
before helping me with the right icecream.

Sometimes I wonder
if they would have enriched my life
were they part of my association.

Not scholars, not rich, but simple men
who bring you down to earth
and carve a space in your mindscape.

Sadly you meet them once in your life.

I feel it's so designed.
The poetry was flowing
But not through his poem
It flowed through his eyes
On into her soul
His words they whispered
Tears down her tired cheeks
She bathed in his passion
   And his darkness she reaped...
Traveler Tim

A creative observation.
If I were a tuft of cloud
Up in the sky I'd float
Over oceans, rivers, streams
Meadows, glens and moats

I'd be a brush of Ivory
A streak, some fluff, a wisp
An artist's muse on an easel
A song on a poet's lips

I'd see the rising waves and land
I'd hang low on plateaus
I could meet with lofty mountains
Capped with gleaming snow

I would gleam in happy wonder
In the eyes of a curious child
Spinning shapes and fantasies
Within a dimpled smile

Sometimes, I'd hide the sun and moon
Sometimes, I'd bring in rain
Pleased I'd be to lounge and sail
In a sky of blue again

I would be glad to meet you too
Away from the madding crowd
Should you be walking on sunshine
With your head up in the clouds

If I were a tuft of cloud
I'd hum la la la dee dooo
Happy I'd be to lounge and sail
In peace in a sky of blue.
An old poem
Next page