Ananta Madhavan


Growing - Poem by Ananta Madhavan

The world is coeval with me.
When I was young it was young;
There was a needless lilt
In the tilt of a butterfly.
There was a random rain of events,
Which did not have to make sense.

When I was middle-aged the world middled;
It kept up with my sogginess.
Seconds before the world opened its mouth
I knew what it was about to say.
The dew had dried, the new smell's gone away.

Now I am old, the world has also turned old.
Between the pulling of the lever and
The locking of the points, a creaky delay.
I don't expect much, but even the faculties
Turn untrustworthy ministers. I am content to grope
For every excuse to hope, but there is hope.

Topic(s) of this poem: growing old


Poet's Notes about The Poem

Written decades ago. Revised recently.

Comments about Growing by Ananta Madhavan

  • Frank James Ryan Jr...fjr (3/3/2015 1:52:00 AM)


    Impressive work, indeed...The last 2 lines rhyme scheme works very well, as does your virtual flawless structural movement throughout...An obviously polished bard of the Silent Word you be....Will be back for more...Cheers ~FjR~ (Report) Reply

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Poem Submitted: Tuesday, March 3, 2015



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