Switched Mirror Views

Switched Mirror Views

Poem by Abhinav

Shy were the eyes, the smirk seemed pure; the look vouched for me, opining I was sure

As his back was a little sore, yeah that’s when my soul tickled its core.


The metal was doing its bit, under my watchful eyes

He acknowledged it, with a childish gaze in disguise.


His garnered strength was an all-time low, but the glare of his will was raring to roar.


As a master gardener, his sown seeds were doing fine; the trees emerged were tall to shade from the sunshine.


So our lion of the pride feels the heat, though his shadow is big, he wouldn’t mind an offered retreat.


I sat at the back as the mirror, rhythm his age; the scissors were off its time, get off the stage.


His body still looked sore, yet the bliss in his eyes worth a million or maybe more.


As we head home, he still paid the bill, I surrendered my will submitting to his goodwill.


Just like the old days, with something nostalgic yet new;

As we left the barber shop, my dad had a clue of what we knew.


It’s just that we have switched our mirror views.

Thoughtfully yours

Abhinav Dwivedi


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Lion of the pride Click here to view