Awonder

His eyes are always open wide.
Always awonder. Always shocked.
A cup of misti doi alarms.
A crunching water bottle jolts.
He blinks and he is scared of it.
The world around him disappears.
He sighs relieved the world is back.
It’s just a blink. But every blink.
His parents keep him close, caressed.
He stares at everyone who stares.
And then he stares outside the train,
Afraid of blurry wire poles
That pass so close their shadows hurt.
He cries aloud with shooting finger
Pointing at a rising crane,
Whose payload seems about to fall.
The silver khainga mullet fish
Escapes the beak and plops below.
He fists, applauds the shimmer splash.
His eyes relax on Chilika.