Vidya Hariharan
The Late Arrival
Coming home
Late one night-
The gate protests loudly,
Voicing the unhappiness
Of my young family.
I tender my apology
By shutting it softly.
The round moon
Looks on at me
And my shenanigans
Smiles quietly,
The bougainvillea
Near the gate stoops
To greet me, says,
“Should you be working
So late, sir?”
The late evening
Breeze pushes me
Towards the front door.