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.