Tanka

as they settle down
to feed on the seeds
he has scattered—
he catches
the pigeons

my worn out sandals
the cobbler finds it
difficult to mend—
I find it hard
to discard

seeing my children
with their families
I realize that
their centre of gravity
has shifted

at a shop
asked to leave my address
he gives me a green ink pen
i picture my father using it
- so many years back

                                                                                                © Kala Ramesh

Loch Raven Review Fall 2005 — Vol. I, No. 1
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