Circle of Life

Last October; Spencer Plaza:
At the bookshop I waited for Anjali.
"Two minutes" became two hours,
before she came, panting.
Her pants wet and rolled up,
her feet wet and sandy.
"So sorry," she squeezed my palm,
"I was at the Marina,
playing with friends.
I must rush now,
or Mom will kill me."
Anjali sprinted away like a little girl --
away from the bookshop, away from my life.

This October; Spencer Plaza.
"Sale": screamed the bookshop.
People carrying bundles of books.
Amid them, a big-eyed beauty,
carrying a small bundle of life.
"My baby," Anjali beamed.
I looked at the baby,
who chuckled to me in silence:
"Do you see that?
I've made your girl a Mom?"
I recalled the sandy feet.
Life had sprinted full circle,
even before time could fly.