Category: Prose Poetry

Blue Frame

Agile hands worked hard to toil

The family owned land.

Sheets of blue tarpaulin shaded

Young one cuddled up on tattered sheet.

Beads of sweat vanished into the parched land. But,

Water not enough to bed the seeds.

A familiar blue frame with broken glass dangled;

Bamboo held it strong. The photo meant faith.

Copyright © 2017, Deeya Nayar-Nambiar

For Her

She and I didn’t share the same nature of job.

I’ve known her but for some time now.

She and I never spoke anything

Except exchanged “Thank you”  

For the cup of tea she served me at work.

Today, unlike other days

She and I got into the lift together and were alone.

I smiled and fiddled with my phone

And she searched in her bag for chocolates

“You know, I work for myself and my past is not painful.”

“Happy Women’s Day, madam.”

Copyright © 2017, Deeya Nayar-Nambiar