Sibling
As I step out
Of the shop
Three carry bags
In either hand
I cannot but
Think of you
Three years elder
Now light years away...
Our shopping done
You used to say in jest then
Looking in either direction
Loud enough
For every one to hear
'Where's the driver?
He's never here
When you want him! '
I was helpless with laughter
As we did not have a car...
As I trudge to the bus-stop
I wonder if you have one now.
poem by Prabhakar Subramaniam
Added by Poetry Lover
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