panicker p.k.n. Poems

I watch the tree
withered and forlorn
all branches dried up
by the street corner.
...

My grand-daughter
and her friend Sarah
the girl from the next house
both, not yet in their teens
...

<As she phoned
inviting to view her writings
on the ‘wall’
my mind raced back in time.
...

A fragrance in the air
a sweetness, a blessing
moist and cool
the Monsoon is here.
...

Sheldon, I beg your pardon;

You are yet a baby,
four or five, as my grandson,
...