My wife croons softly, a song of light from our past
as I play make belief tea party with my daughters.
The elder one had to call me from my work desk twice
before I shut down my laptop. The little one laughs
that uninhibited laugh that us adults lost
a long time ago. The elder one looks
happy as she pours imaginary tea from her little
white pot into the miniature plastic cups, blue,
yellow and blue, that she has arranged in front
of the three players. A couple of minutes ago
I was recording them speak, sing and play
in the room, my wife crooning in the background. I know
that moments can’t be frozen, either as videos or as poems.
Yet I try.
By Rajnish Mishra
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