|

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

mango.

 

Wash it.

 

I would not peel it

revealing its golden pulp entirely.

 

Rather I softened it by rolling

slowly

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

 

 

Comments are closed