The Hollow

Two little eyes sparkled and

stared from the hollow

eyelids blinked in resonance

with the winter evening breeze



crawling out from the hollow

wee, came the little figure, down the slide

both tiny hands clutched on to her long black gown

sliding slow as snail, expectant eyes



wee, and down, stomping on the sand

swooshing few in air , two little foot walked

rubbing a pinch of dust off the eyes

the figure stopped moving



and out reached two big hands stroking her head

fed her expensive cookies and colourful juices

but little anxious eyes wandered

seeking something not mysterious



little eyelids blinked more now

in resonance with a flickering smile

as another little figure that lingered around

with bright florescent yellow jersey dress



"can we play together"..gleefully

made another little figure

hollow in the eyes of little figure filled up

as her lips carved out the best smile.



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P.S. - I take my son outdoors playing. This poetry was written quickly during one such visit. Playing in groups is a rare scene these days. Our children are enjoying the urban play pens with parents right on their back.

Many times I notice few kids being reined in, with set of instructions.

Let them free. Let them play  with other children. in full glee and spree.

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