A drop [from the son’s diary]
Mom teaches Chemistry to her son
Mom teaches Chemistry to her son
From
her school book, neatly covered in brown paper;
A
drop, in the middle of the label
That
blurred the year with an off blue splash,
Was
that of an ice-cream, she recollects…
‘Time
didn’t run away
From
the indolent soporific book why,’ she thinks;
A
drop wakes her up, turns old in a whiff
In
a room, with an impatient son,
Waiting
to figure the bonds!
04 June 2014
04 June 2014
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