Talking Couch

Woke up hearing the ruffling noise,
Sat the guy with a newspaper and coffee.

Stays glued to me all day long,
Doesn’t even miss the obituary column.

Must be a retired one,
Finds his days boring like hell.

Now and then he looks through the window,
Idly watching her water, the plants.

Has a mocking smile on his face,
For her ability to kill the plants.

Tied to her tasks all day long,
Has no time to sit and relax next to him.

Is so fond and proud of her garden,
Loves the plants and trees of no use.

Once in day, sits and takes a cozy nap,
Wakes up when she drops the television remote.

Both talk about the government stuff,
That always sounds Greek and Latin to me.

When their son and daughter come home,
Hear the rooms fill with laughter.

Published by Kavitha Patchamalai

I shall be telling this with a sigh Somewhere ages and ages hence: Two roads diverged in a wood, and I— I took the one less traveled by, And that has made all the difference. BY ROBERT FROST

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.