The Lost Old Woman Poem by Vidya Pandarinath

You could often see her hardy

Beneath the big old banyan tree

Inclined on her side with folded body

As if she were on a feat or spree;

Only a loud human sound would raffle

Her petrified pose and make her cast

A mortal look at the intruder with her muffle;

Raising a crooked bony, complaining finger:

snivelling out sounds from her drooping lips;

Time and patience were lost to linger,

Making sense out of the prate -slips;

This was a snap common any day

For all who chose to bypass the way

And look at her fora moment's stay;

Years have gone by now -away spent

And I have sometimes in discomfort recalled

Trying to seek purpose, sense in the stigma

In her eerie seclusion and intent:

The Fall of Life, it seems is a puzzle, and enigma.