It was Me

a poem by Sidharth Kumar

Meandering valleys
Just like curved bowling alleys
Speeding my motorcar
To reach the north star
Fresh in my mind
With the air so kind
Racing with air born objects
The mountain deflects
Its sunny morning
With roads shining
Few meters ahead
A man with attire cherry red
I see this born figure
Like a huge sculpture
Six feet above the ground
Roaming in his world around
Rubbing shoulders with this terrain
With no sign of water rain
He with a rucksack
Giving me an anxiety attack
Dunno he looked at me or my car first
Someone like me was a biggest quest
A ray of hope in this lonely land
Me came, as a big hand
Signalling for a lift
In this unknown drift
Smiling and hopeful
But I better be careful
Is he a hitchhiker
Or a travelling moneymaker
As I approached
And not encroached
His face became more familiar
Thought I’d seen him earlier
Moving in my lane
See him throw window pane
To stop or to move on
Let me think on
And I did retard with expressions of gee
Until I realised it was me!