My Sister and I

My sister and I have grown up
getting our photographs clicked
under the narangi tree.

She stands beneath it.
Her teeth crooked,
her eyes glinting,
and her baby sweater teasing the narangi
that bends to merge with it.

Six years later,
I stand outside beneath it,
and almost pose like her.

Inside, the grandfather clock tells the passage of time.

One thought on “My Sister and I

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