Friday, February 06, 2009

Things that lie in the recesses of my mind....

One of my all-time favorite poems, which a friend of mine scribbled on a letter to me two decades ago - I'm not sure in what context then, but now it seems like she was prescient.


A dream deferred

What happens to a dream deferred?

Does it dry up
like a raisin in the sun?
Or fester like a sore
And then run?
Does it stink like rotten meat?
Or crust and sugar over
like a syrupy sweet?

Maybe it just sags
like a heavy load.

Or does it explode?

Langston Hughes

1 comment:

  1. Anonymous6:53 AM

    Very cool poem, Sudha! Don't know much about Langston Hughes, though I'm sure I read him in literature classes. It feels good to be catching up with your doings.
    Much love, Marybeth

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