The Uphill

The Uphill


The uphill tires me.
You walk fast
and ahead.
Strange,
I always thought
that I’d lead you
and guide you.


You reach to the top.
You laugh at me
and my weakness.
I am a bad walker.


Yet,
you come running back to my arms
laugh at me, still
and push me from behind
all the way to the top.


See?
I am supposed to lead.





chirag bangdel
(earlier published in my collection “Fermenting Flowers”.)