Treasure Island

Ramanujam Parthasarathy

(23 May 1956 / Chennai, India)

At Vuda Park


The stick slipped,
He was about to fall,
But his crony crutch supported him
With her fragile frame.
Stumbling, they sat on a bench in a corner,
And I was reabsorbed in my Herman Hesse.
Of course, I am a bird-watcher,
But old birds are not my game.

They came soon enough,
With laughter beyond all reason,
With a charm that could transform a dreary desert -
The natural inhabitants of Vuda Park.
And the waiting eyes began their roving routine.

As the sun slithered further down,
And the scene was shifting to the beach,
I got up as though mesmerized.
But the spell broke:
An unintended glance at the corner scene
Held me back on to the bench.

His shaky hand shuffled towards
Her pale and frail palm
And crawled clumsily into it
The small sunken eyes that leered at her
Gleamed with passion against the crimsoning sky.
But now the woman caught my eye.

The obedient hand flexed, faltered,
And paltered with the shaky hand,
But when the clammy eyes lifted,
I fancy I saw neither fondness nor pity
But accumulated contempt.

Submitted: Sunday, May 05, 2013
Edited: Wednesday, September 18, 2013

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Poet's Notes about The Poem

Written in 1990

Comments about this poem (At Vuda Park by Ramanujam Parthasarathy )

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  • Dinesh Nair (7/19/2013 10:22:00 PM)

    A piece of verse that can rightly boast of apt and powerful diction, immaculate style and the much needed personal touch indeed! Well begun over here and I wish you all the best ahead sir. Thanks for your kind comments. (Report) Reply

  • Www.poemhunter.com/m-d-dinesh-nair-2 Search 2 (5/6/2013 1:11:00 AM)

    A piece of verse that can rightly boast of apt and powerful diction, immaculate style and the much needed personal touch indeed! Well begun over here and I wish you all the best ahead sir. Thanks for your kind comments. (Report) Reply

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