Thursday, February 8, 2007

Red- A Reminiscence

Red leaves hide the monuments of time
On that very bench;
And that engraved history.

That’s how it started maybe…

The breadths of roads were mere
Counts of leaves they were washed in;
Some strangers would have walked
There in the loneliness of winters,
Craving the warmth of sunshine.

Red again…
The leaves merging with
The rotten fluid of silenced

And as I opened my eyes,
The vase beside me primed
The clock…anti clockwise.

Why are you still awake?
Hallucinations are a better way
To touch life.

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