Down the street they stroll
hand in hand
Like lovers who’d care two hoots
should the whole world be damned

She leaps about to a rhythm
none but she can hear
Never failing to keep pace
with his slow tentative step
Two hops to one plod
A rather odd time signature

“Another one, another one”
she squeals
“Tell me another story”
“PLEASE”, she inserts for effect

Off course, they’re heading somewhere
but it won’t matter if they never each
Their world is more precious
than the place they have to be

He rolls up a beedi
she watches quietly
He thinks she’ll make a great brain surgeon
she’s quick to agree
Her fingers are as deft
as his used to be
He’s sailed far from home
she’s going to circumvent the globe

Seasons have flown past
days, weeks, months and years in tow
A lot has changed
but who’s keeping score?

The beedi has burnt out
its smoke has long wafted away
The brain surgery’s buried
beneath the dancing shoes
in a trunk of forgotten dreams

The math was all wrong
somehow the universe forgot
that all things must add up
or perhaps it simply changed the plot

Now when she looks at him
all that she sees
are all the things
she ought to be

As for him
he doesn’t know her anymore
Thinks she’s the daughter of some second cousin
he lost track off long ago

There’s a haze over his eyes
It doesn’t matter how long she stares
It’s like looking through muddy floodwater
at a sunken paper boat

He thought her how to count
now she’s numbering the days
Till it’s time for him to move
to a far far better place