February, 14th, Delhi,
The traffic crawls ahead.
I find myself surrounded
By a brillaint sea of red
Red balloons,
with ribbons trailing
Bunch of roses
With tassle detailing
Boy in red jacket
With sheepish pride
Holding the red clad
Girl by his side
Happy faces,
Turned to each other
Lowered eyes gently
Looking into another
I turn a trafficked corner
Onto a busy street
Only to be greeted
By a visual treat
A destitute woman
Homeless with her man,
Pulls him along
As fast as she can
They are not in red
No balloon or gift
Clothes are tattered,
Hair is adrift.
But that same look
In their lowered eyes
Catches my breath
With a surprise
The love is the same
Subtly expressed
In the entwined fingers
Gently pressed
Destitute, deranged
With not much to show
Yet they loved each other
I came to know.
-Piyu
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