WAITING

a creak of a door,
his heart leaps
he rushes to Open,
Ready to embrace
But the wind howls with mirth at him
Your Waiting is vain, it teased

A ring of a phone,
He moves to pick it up
“ello,
expecting to hear the voice,
he so craved
----------------------
A wrong number.

Deep in his heart he knows,
he is not going to see her again,
not going to hear,
that laughter,
fresh from her lips

but till now,
he has clung to a strand of hope
like we all do,
however hopeless the hope is

the vision blurred,
with those fresh tears,
he looks around
the house ,
that was once alive

now,
all the vitality
has drained out of it
the emtyness,
reeks of
desolation

you can’t blame an old father,
to dip into,
Reminiscences