Drops Of Time Poem by Prabhakar Subramaniam

Sun drops trail ink drops

Across the class floor

As agonisingly slow

As garden snails

Marking time

For the final bell,

Before it rings

How many times

Have I pattered

Down our street

Flung down the schoolbag

Kicked off the shoes

Raced out to play!

How many times

Have I not wanted

The sun drops to move

Willing to stay put

And listen for hours

To date-filled chronicles

Of distant, war-thirsty kings,

Or taken the circuitous route

Braving streets with

Lecherous eyes

Dreading to go home

To a demented face

Sword-sharp tongue

And whiplash hands!