Train storm -- ‘
Fallen Feathers’
It is like
a karma yogi,
About to veer on its rooted tracks.
Not
caring for you, You
soon
to be A baggage in the corner.
You are the loner,
bystander,
In a
way goofy, amidst the
noisy.
Twitter continues in the crowded platform,
Through a
saintly faint fascinating me,
Now
fades into the
melange slowly.
Many a laden
trolley trudge along.
But That One special
lingers in my memory,
That one with the baggage, bundle of
Bronchitis
affected child, twenty years ago,
Now no more. Karma played with the tender.
Lost is lost
and fallen feathers
Don’t gather
into a sustainable foliage.
In every cute babe, you see the rosy
Remembrance of the costly miss.
Somewhere child
is
reborn in an
Added Bliss of
assured longevity.
Train moves
with the mechanical
Whizz : you
are immersed in
Your dream of
recollection.
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