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Personal Note:

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Poem

In school-days on poles 
scratched the birds,
if they were even number 
especially two 
(Sometimes bonded sometimes 
quarreled)
we kissed palm to lips to 
utter good luck
if odd especially one, 
friends touched 
others to transfer 'bad 
luck current pass',
(Perhaps ripe time for bird that 
they are free from other 
influence- in silence)
and those aware of the 
wicked omen viewer had 
two fingers cross 
To guard 'if uncrossed' 
communicable vibes 

But after multitude years 
of oscillating nuptail this 
old man remembers 
brathood,
what could have been as 
lucky for bird or man as 
gift of constant solitude?

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