Poems on

An Astrologer’s say

a poem by Sakthi Ravichandran

It is the corner of the village with a tree
There is a man with stick and mat
He is calling and shouting for his bread
His profession is giving predictions of his believers
My walk ends there to relax and
Listens his call with a desire
He called and said a thing about the past
I stunned and and sit on his mat for more
He visited my hand and examined
In a sweet rhythm started his says
Few are true and few may be false
I am stunned of his rhythmic voice and versions
He comes to the end and asked five rupees as charge
Then my searching begins to settle his money
A word comes as last form his mouth
That I will be very soon caught by an incident