An insect shaped like a butterfly <br />Not really willing to die <br />For he feared to be flown <br />By the wind that was being blown <br />In the train I was travelling by <br />Which was passing through low and high <br />Leaving barren and tilled landscapes behind <br />And moving regularly ahead towards its goal to find; <br />The insect was too small <br />Trying his best to creep on a wall <br />Of flesh and blood which was of my <br />No other than but left thigh <br />On which he was creeping <br />To find a shelter or something <br />To be safe against the blowing wind <br />This he decided in his mind; <br />His wings blotted black and white <br />For me it's a fine sight <br />I was infatuated by the scene <br />And everything else was to me unscene <br />He still lay on my thigh <br />As if trying to be safer <br />But the wind was not getting slower <br />Nor did he pass anywhere by; <br />Meanwhile, the rain started <br />And even closer to me he shifted <br />I spread my palm on his body <br />To avoid wind and rain drops <br />When the rain and the wind ceased <br />And my train at its goal reached <br />He slipped somewhere away <br />Bidding me no thanks nor good bye.<br /><br />Indresh Kumar<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/my-tiny-fellow-traveller/
