Long sinewy fingers <br />Typing furiously <br />E-mail after e-mail <br />On a laptop <br />That is falling apart <br /> <br />He happens to pass by <br />He exchanges a pleasantry <br />She does not reply <br />Just continues typing <br />He feels slighted <br />She does not know <br />Her mind on the word flow <br /> <br />Minutes later <br />His patience wears out <br />He begins to shout <br />She seems not to care <br />Or remains unaware <br />That he is around <br />Waiting for a voice a sound <br />Other than her fingers <br />Tapping on the laptop keys <br /> <br />Finally she is done <br />She shuts the laptop <br />Places it in the case <br />And, as if in a hurry <br />To run a race <br />Moves fast across the floor <br />Heading towards the door <br /> <br />He chases behind her <br />But she is too quick <br />On the street <br />She beats a hasty retreat <br />And like a phantom <br />She vanishes into the crowd <br /> <br />She is nameless <br />One more of Mumbai’s <br />Unknown working Moms <br />Leaving home early <br />Returning back late <br />Only to start working again <br />For her children and her mate <br />She has no time for pretensions <br />Or his unsolicited attentions<br /><br />Sandra Martyres<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/another-face-in-the-crowd-2/
