, ,


Little eyes stare

Follow spiraling trails in the hollow

search for doodlebugs.


A hollow

where a heart used to be

now reclaimed


My white pond

Tiny hand digs

the mound of fluffy rice

on the steel plate

Expectant eyes

gaze across the table

meet a smiling pair

Mother pours

filling the hollow

to the brim

With a screech of glee

baby fingers dip

into rich curd…

β€˜Amma, I have my own white pond!’

– Shail Mohan (March 2011)

Written forPrompt 161: Hollow