That Word


Sometimes the search
for that perfect word is elusive

That word, a sulky sun refusing
to shed its blanket of cloud

That word, a crack of lightning
distilling all your anger

That word, a raging river
encompassing all your frustrations

You dig deep, as though
carving a grave
deep enough to bury
all your grief
entomb every shred
of misery to find
that perfect word

You rummage in the
deepest recesses
of your mind to find it
cast off several choices
like dresses that no longer fit

Finally, weary of searching,
on the verge of giving up,
the bulb suddenly lights up
in your very own
eureka moment

It would befit the occasion
if you ran down the street naked,
shouting it out loud



© 2018 Uma Venkatraman ~ All Rights Reserved

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