Bragolin boy


Click pic for the full story

The first time I went to his house,

I met the crying boy on the wall,

tears tumbling onto his chubby cheeks

watching me with a hurt look

unbearable innocence in the angelic face

The straight hair, the steady gaze

the sorrow that poured from paint,

reminded me of a motherless kid

and I fell in love

 

comforting him instead

because he happened to be with me

and not on the wall. 

 

Now I know, little child

You were one of the Bragolin clan

and that I loved him more because of you

no wonder  when the fire raged

love incinerated itself

leaving me with a watercolour

filled in with boyish tears.

©Reena Prasad  3rd Sept 2012

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