The puff of steam
hurriedly go, stay and settle
on the green coloured
hard, thick, Window panes,
till I go deft to wipe them off.
Also a kettle with soot
chuckles as if terribly
weaned off an evil.
It is the hot puff of steams
Piercing my nostrils clogged
by cold and subsequent sneeze.
The pictures afar, on the wall
don’t blow, or fritter,
stay double calm.
Radhamani Sarma's Other Poems
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