My Mother’s Perfume

She smiled in the mirror

while braiding her hair

with fair daisies.

 

She pinned them tightly

then draped on her

Rosy-pink saree like in 1980s.

 

Her face gleamed with joy

The kohl in her doe-eyes

Was a reason to many broken-hearted cries.

 

The pink lily talcum perfumed her cheeks

I look at her fondly

as Amma walks past me

like a summer breeze.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.