A Poem for my Creative Writing Class Out on a “Poem Walk”
“There is no such thing as a free walk”
Did they walk well -
your poems?
Or did they fall asleep,
walking,
under stillness
only really old trees
seem to promise any more?
So what was it like
to abandon me
and your classroom?
Did your poems step out with you?
Did they smuggle themselves into your backpacks?
Into your unsuspecting water bottles?
Into the ringing silence of your mobiles?
Did they walk many forest miles?
Are their feet cracked,
aching, multi- thorned?
Would they be needing a foot massage?
And what of their fingers?
Will they fly over keyboards?
Can your poems mail themselves
to me
by five this evening?
There is
no such thing
as a free walk!
So will they,
will they not
turn themselves in -
these run-away poems?
Published in Kavya Bharati, 2011, No.23
