Monday, November 23, 2020

You dawn upon my old lost self

Like distant slants of hazy light

Softly defining foggy contours

Of a rough rugged ruined scape


I live you as my memory

Your name is count of time to me


And ours is a tale of bright sunshine 

On a rusty shutter painted green

For an obscure shop with scanty light

Whereon sits a butterfly


I live in you as memory

Your name is count of time to me






6 comments:

  1. Beautiful intensity.

    Memorized past, presentism, a lyrical warble penetrating the entire being.

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  2. Highly evocative. Stirs up nostalgia ... TSE (?)

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  3. Highly evocative . Stirs up nostalgia. ... TSE (?)... metaphors.

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  4. स्मृतियाँ..कुछ स्मृतियाँ हमारे अस्तित्व का अपरिहार्य अंग भी हो जाती हैं...

    ReplyDelete