Poetry of Childhood  By Ashok Bhargava

Summer is the sweet smell of blossoms

in my uncle’s orchard.


I would pick the best looking

ripe pink-auburn



Wash it.


I would not peel it

revealing its golden pulp entirely.


Rather I softened it by rolling


between my palms.


Then I nibble a neat hole

at the top of the skin pouch

pulling the pulp

up slowly into my mouth.


I did this all

While listening to Mukesh on the radio

so the juice falls freely

with a melody

into my stomach.


This is the fleeting

poetry of my childhood.


Ashok Bhargava is a poet and founder of Writers International Network of Canada also known as WIN. He can be reached at bhargava2000@yahoo.com



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