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Chance Encounters

for Aali Areefur Rehman

1.

I met a fellow hot as chilly peppers,
dawdling barefoot, hair anarchic, dress patched up,
waving his right hand
like a railway signal-man with a green flag,
waving as if he were fluttering gestures of departure.
Ravings came out of his mouth;

his whimsy put a dread in me.
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Thursday, July 21, 2016
Topic(s) of this poem: people
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