Broken Poem by prabhakar bhatlekar

It's not that an old painting's
frame must break deforming
the square with the glass
forming fine cracks on
the beautiful face of mother.
Well, the frame is brittle
with the broken glass.
This too long time back!
She was thirty and beautiful.
Sharp almond eyes with a kind of
lost look. Staring away
from the camera.
Slight uneasy posture of
unpreparedness to pose
for photograph.
For quite some time
she wasn't in her senses
I was told, but would be in her
own world of her drawings.
The only thing with sense.
Experts praised her
creative outbursts on paper
blending of fantasy and reality.
Many time I held the
deformed frame with broken glass.
Watched the lost feel in her eyes
and waved aside the thought
fixing new frame with new glass.