Yellow Rose of BangaloreA Poem by April ChildHalf sat, mostly sprawled across the big white bed in room 3042, of a grand hotel in Bangalore. My mobile rings. I know before answering it’s one of those calls that defines life into ‘before’ and ‘after’, so hesitate as long as possible in ‘before’. “Dad passed away in the night.” I don’t believe it, tears come but I don’t believe it and sit, stand, sit, pace around, shaking my head. I don’t know what to do. I don’t know what to do. Stupid thoughts: must cancel the newspapers, inform the landlord, hair appointment at 4 o’clock. I hear a strange sound, a sort of ascending groan. It’s coming from me. There’s a single yellow rose in a vase on the desk. © 2009 April ChildFeatured Review
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Added on September 16, 2009Last Updated on September 26, 2009 AuthorApril ChildUnited KingdomAboutI love words and I like to write poems. Sometimes words just come and I don't know where from but I write them down anyway. There's something very powerful in the written word. It shows you where y.. more..Writing
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