From a, flea market, I bought, time’s dust
A torn, testament, to, ever last
When its, coffin’s lock, broken by rust
Gave away, enigmas, of a, family’s past!
Silent spectators, of, my present
Stare, at me, with, black and white, smiles
Is present, or past, our sacrament
Both, a pilgrimage, lasting, a myriad miles!
Do I care, to know, do I dare, to find
The heir, of this, lost shred, of time
Where future, has left, present behind
What worth, is this, past’s paradigm!
They, lay strewn, all over, my thoughts
Measuring, life’s, boundless distances
My rosary, of, forget-me-nots
A Bunch, Of Lost, Remembrances!
© 2022 Vikas Chandra