Shovel leaning on his waist,
Pulled out a matchbox hesitatingly,
Burnt them, the leaves.
The street is filled with smoke,fragrance,
passerby run for cover,
He pauses and heeds the smell,
which will turn nostalgia in few years
What did you burn poet?
Memories, life i lived, love, lies,
I can make the sun stop,
Earth sing and moon cry.
I can make sun go around the moon,
I can be gigantic, reach for the stars,
I can be small, get into a hole,
Dig deep for my soul.
Can't get rid of memories,
Pitter Patter, school Gate,
Cycle trails, Doon Valley & Mumbai rains.
Those lean desperate long hours,
Anger, love, desperation.
Time searched the hallways of mind.
Hands kept time.
The climate altered like a
visible dance.
So did her mood.
Dull lights, broken street,
Abodes reeking stench,
trampled grass, Warm sun,
thirsty throat, wretched sheet.
Tiny soul, million woes,
Zestful eyes, restful pose,
Seeking fortune or hiding in Disdain?
I seek nothing! can't i take with me?
Poet, Why do you brood?
See how memories have changed you,
How slowly they estranged you
Solely arranged you
Bright lights, washed streets,
green grass,gentle noon.
What you gave in experiences and accidents,
I am returning all.
Dull lights, broken street,
Abodes reeking stench,
trampled grass, Warm sun,
thirsty throat, wretched sheet.
"See how memories have changed you,
ReplyDeleteHow slowly they estranged you..." how true...