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On the way home
I come across many a thing
I don’t pay heed to.

A pair of birch ,
Crossing arms together,
Sometime I have noticed,
Keeping different backgrounds,
They communicate something –
And
Each time in different ways –
I have noticed,
On the way home.

A can of juice,
Left away,
At the corner of Walters’ backyard,
Has been rusted,
The prints on it have been fading off.
I have noticed,
On the way home.

The bent of the alley,
Everyday I cross,
Beside the community park,
The verge of it has made
Another trail of shortcut
Bifurcating the main alley.
I have noticed,
On the way home.

Some people, perhaps known to me,
Gossip standing –
At the opening of my apartment,
Whispers, pointing at my balcony.
Tit-bits of their thin words
Come to my ears –
“I heard broken”… “Finally the relation…”
“They stay apart”….
I have noticed,
On the way home.



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Comments

The following comments are for "On The Way Home"
by Myth

home
great imagery.followed your eyes the second time
I read it. very good poem.

( Posted by: williamhill [Member] On: June 28, 2004 )





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