A Needle Through The Heart Poem by Anil Kumar Panda

I see him sitting under the tree
Thick lips muttering, counting beads
I see him wearing the coat
That he has worn last year at this time
Of winter

I smile at him
He did not respond
Went on counting beads
I moved on without giving him
A second look

Winter has gone
The trees are laden with fresh leaves
The floor is littered with dead leaves
Yellowish, brownish and curled
I see him sitting in silence
Watching the sun setting in the west
Wearing the same coat
With stitches at many places
Gifted by his son
Long dead in a foreign land