Second Childhood - Poem by Pankajam Kottarath
Great uncle, eighty six, a chronic bachelor,
known for penny-pinching all his good life
prudence shrunk, vision poor, memory fading,
once used to loosen his waist belt after each meal
became obstinate, an hour it took to feed him.
Almost a roll back; A second childhood.
At a big bang and a feeble moan
Mom rolled up the lantern wick
and in the dim yellow light we saw
uncle lying on the floor, static.
His legs touched the floor after months,
After a few seconds of silence, he asked,
”Could you not catch that rupee note
that was flying around? ”
Mom almost burst into a laugh
yet instantly succeeded in hiding,
but I, a girl of eight then, could not,
till I met with her dilated pupils.
To feel his innocence once again
I pass my fingers over his picture.
Comments about Second Childhood by Pankajam Kottarath
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
Do Not Stand At My Grave And Weep
Mary Elizabeth Frye