Kid, interrupted

A poem about a squirrel and home-alone kid, Indian metro

A kid, interrupted

An Indian palm squirrel

Goes vocal by singing a

Song, an incessant musical

Chip, chip, chip,

Punctuating the October morn,

That stops a kid,

Playing with her invisible friend,

In a flat barred from outside,

And makes her look up,

The solitary child, empty home,

To trace the source of the

Sweet sound, flowing in series,

Somewhere up in a tree

Kissing the balcony of the

Lonely house,

Enthralled,

The kid smiles,

Sees the gliding squirrel,

On the tree of the compound,

And waves back at the creature,

With arched back and a furry

Tail,

Swiftly racing up and down.

 

Author's Note

an urban scene, Indian metro

Reviews

[TLK]

You wring a huge amount of human emotion out of this simple meeting. Key parts are "The solitary child, empty home," (which is more powerful due to the lack of elaboration -- we all know well enough what this means) and "Kissing the balcony of the / Lonely house," which implies a loneliness more vast than the simple use of the word 'lonely'. You make the balcony and house seem lonely, too, desperate to be closer to the tree.

Your English is excellent -- I wish we had as strong an education in languages here in the UK. I think there are only three British people that can speak a foreign language left, and they're in a special home for the supernaturally gifted.

[Dreaming lord]

i can see a squirrel running in my imagination now.. thanks for showing me it.. now.. :)

[Emily B]

wonderfully written, it made me smile to think that squirrels are an international phenomenon