The Clothesline

Standing tall I spread my wings from pole to pole,
Clothed in your clothes, guarding your home,
I stand right there, as the years roll.

Relentlessly melting under the scorching sun
And thawing with the winter wind,
I remain, a silent witness to the spectacle of life.

I was there when you played hopscotch,
When curses and praises were hurled at me alternately, as you played hide and seek.

I caught you, as well as the solitary crow perched on me,
Treating yourselves to a half-baked papad in the afternoon sun.

Gossip that is volleyed so effortlessly across the fence
Never manage to escape my ears.

I look on, as the seemingly friendly neighbour sneaks in
And skilfully steals the shiny new pegs, a couple at a time.

TV antennae gave way to DTH dishes,
While I stood the test of time and the wrath of weather.

Relentlessly melting under the scorching sun
And thawing with the winter wind,
I remain, a silent witness to the spectacle of life.

Once in decades, a day comes, when my wings shudder
When my life-string snaps a little,
My heart heavy with memories, I sink to the earth.