Lost in her thoughts
she was sitting in room;
One hand holding cup
and in other was broom.

Those memories of childhood
were sliding in her brain;
That playing in streets,
that dancing in the rain.

Why she grew up
she was wondering there alone;
But startled she stands
when rang her silly phone.

"What is this noise?",
shouted her mother-in-law;
Hardly could she utter
when broken cup she saw.

© 2021 Shivi Sharma