Sunday, August 4, 2013

The Turn


I turn the turn and look for you
Like in the picture-riddle, where
We used to find a missing person
And win the coveted prize

The turn where, walking fingers locked
We had emerged one day, suddenly
From the winding lanes in the green
knowing we had to part our ways

The turn where you told me to go
Nudging me gently on, coaxing
With a touch in the small of my back
And watched till I disappeared

All is still there, the green and the road  
But the touch in the small of my back
And YOU; my coveted prize are lost, 
Yet, I turn the turn and look for you.