Creek

The tiny creek

is a play stream

during summer;

she can hike her dress and cross it with grace.

Mom is following her chirping fledgling.

Soon another little puffy face girl joins,

a friend who does not pass ugly remarks

on her whiteness, on her chalky face,

colorless hair, body, fear of sun.

>

Other girls of course do call her whity;

their mothers whisper, “She’s albino.”

As if it does matter; spells misfortune.

She cringes to a corner with her

only friend who stutters; it is their world

circled by a replica of the creek

they cross on the road to the public school.

>

It takes a different shape once it rains.

© 2009 - All Rights Reserved Kushal Poddar