a poem by Meenakshi Verma Dr

Like a glistening dew
it felt the touch of soft petals
when shaken by a sudden gust
of unfeeling dust
soon it touched the heat
of inhospitable ground
and evaporated!
Can friendship survive
the dusty onslaughts
of hot props?

“It can be sipped like tea”
my friend says,
“or eaten raw as a carrot
repeatedly pronounced parrot-fashion
It fades into a thick smoke
of needs, desires and cares.
Who says a friend in need is a friend indeed?”
And so saying my friend
passed me a carrot over a cup of tea.