I still remember that lane, ganglingly tall
Where she lives, beguiling and engaging
Svelte and perfumed, the lane turned
As she walked past me, her pallu brushing my arm
I had stood there the whole evening,
Waiting for her under the dim shaft of light
The lamp-post still stands straight as
Decently morbid thoughts whizzes past, I ask
My heart, Had she come after I had left?
Had the promises made, entered the narrow one-way
Heart of the residents, well-behaved and moral
In this world of shadowy and horribly respectable politicians?
This post is written for A to Z Challenge in association with Blogchatter.