Bell rings at six-thirty, and leave the bed at seven

Coffee, shower, dress, eat; the daily hurry’s given.

The car dodges traffic; I look for music meanwhile

Then to “work” – good morning – and chat and question and smile.

I’ve given up the coffee, and tea with cardamom

It’s two cups from one tea-bag, and tiffin packed by Mum.

Snacks and biscuits also; also sudden deadlines

Along laughing hours are hidden potholes, landmines.

The days are growing longer; the sky may still be light

When I leave the office, already wanting a bite.

The dogs look tired, dirty; the baby on the pavement

Rests and frolics with them, in her dirty raiment.

I take the fastest way back; the city looks impatient

I dive into my laptop without losing a moment.

The dogs may turn up, hopeful, with eloquent eyes

‘We never seem to meet you,’ someone says and sighs.

I add that to the list of things I am doing wrong

And wonder whether I should play Moonlight or a song.

Coffee, dinner, surfing, brushing, combing, goodnight

Tomorrow I shall solve it, I’ll make that thing all right.

Few minutes of quietness, before inviting sleep

Let the ripples rest now, let them be still and deep.

In the sea of my every day, it’s only ’minute or two:

Then and only then I let myself think of you.


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