A Digression

If you call it a digression, I have to agree Not every mundane occurrence can be made into poetry. Take for instance what happened the other day in the bus An aged woman was struggling to cope with the office rush. All the men occupied their seats looking the other way Offering her a seat being too heavy a price to pay. Of the all one kind soul vacated her his seat I call him kind because not many like him you meet. The episode could end here with her polite thank you The act wasn’t so great that more than it was due. But that woman god bless her kissed him on forehead Said, ‘sweet angel, you are in heaven made. A stranger though in you I see more than my son Our paths may not meet again but my heart you’ve won’. What’s there in this account of a mundane occurrence, To make from it a poetry and burden your patience?