That noon when I was walking
down the lonesome street
with my bundle on head
you laughed vociferously..
I looked around in bewilderment.
Is it me, seemingly funny
impressing upon that capricious billow
emerging from spring blossom..
Unto the obscure fire..
am I that insect of gloam?
I kept my bundle resting against a wall..
and started walking again..
yet you were still laughing..!
Is there something wrong with my rigout
coloured with the ashes of wood
that I used to paint in colours of mood.
Your laughter and my wonder..
hah- now I am not stopping my impulses..
So laughing and walking faster
with my bundle back on head.
But I am yet to find the cause of your laughter...