• Les Gazzette

By Tiya Parmar


Mine-

Clear as a crystal chandelier

A sky unblemished by straying clouds-

My orbs that gaze

In puzzled wonder

My hands that quiver

With elation and fervour

My lips that shout

Sounds of joy

My steps that stumble

In empty space,

An echo of a day in 2005 May.

I wasn't even a year old.


My first steps.

Wobbly and rickety,

Like an old, grandpa chair;

Giddy and whimsy,

Free as a butterfly in the air.


One. Two. Three...

Almost a four!

And there I go

Back down on the floor,

Taking with me the baby stool.


My amateur walking, my botched running

I had mastered the art of falling,

With all those blue-hued bruises

and bloody scrapes,

Awards and medals to cheer me on;

Who could stop me now?


I think of my lonely bicycle,

Gathering dust and webs in the parking lot,

It is my third one ever-

The first one was borrowed,

With four wheels and then two-

It was with trepidation that I sat on its kingly throne

(Thus was the seat's design).

And I recall

This exotic feel of exhilaration

As I flew down the slope, on the magic carpet;

My cries of burning agony

When I punctured my skin, speeding into a turn.

A long scrape adorned my back.

It slowly washed away.


And one day I'll crash my car,

Cursing the other careless driver,

Helpless with wonder at what to do.

Or I'll lose my keys,

Or break my phone,

I'll learn how to skate again,

I'll touch the snow,

With my own freezing arms.


I'll learn everything as I learn so many things.

 @lesgazzette
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