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29. Exercise

It is an exercise,

Writing a poem.

A word growing

Like a plant.

An image or a theme

An emotion or an event

Suggested, let afloat,

Unaddressed,

Is then attuned,

Given air,

Mostly in solitude,

And in silence,

Till the clamour

Of words subsides,

Forms and reforms

Into proximities,

Recognisable,

Like a cousin

Who never visited.

The eye roves, so does the mind;

In both, there is an event

Of becoming like never before.

But mostly, one waits,

Like a passenger on a platform

For the sound of a train

Approaching from afar.

Is that his train?

Will there be a seat?

Where is it destined?

Does it matter at all?

----Ravichandra P Chittampalli

(30 April 2026)

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