My first memory

Of that yellow light 

On the street, is of years ago;

When I walked half-miles

through that dark

Clutching my mother on the

Left and Papa on my right.

Nor were there hundred-homes

Then, neither the Cackling kids

I now hear on the lane outside.

Today, when I click,

And stop mid-way on feeling

Again the yellow around,

Often I am asked, why this 

‘Love’ ( if you agree).

No, I don’t know, why 

Your ‘LED’ hurts me, yes,I hear 

your issues with

The hundred-Watts. I know

When you say it is hot today,

I see my aunt lying sick

Next-room, ‘It is the heat’, they 

say. Your concerns for the

green, I know.

While we walked through

The dark, there was 

This yellow-street light,

Only one, which

We met always. In that

Quiet there, were three more

With us. Laughs and Smiles

Took shapes.

Years piled, and I saw more 

Of her, loving a little more 

Of that shadowy-bright.

Today,She leaves the trails for her 

Young whites,Vacating all slow.

Maybe these Nights are

her last.



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