The finishing line
Begins a still
The horizon beckons
Till the shore turns
Into another horizon
Our footsteps often
Dissolve into the brine
And spur at waves to gallop
One look behind
The golden oars
As they dip into green
Amidst the bleeding line
While the sky pumps freshness
And transmits light into circulation .
While we learn to calibrate
Hours from days and days from months
We change calenders after a dozen
We lose moments that culminate
Into the time of life.
Delhi
2049
23.30 hrs
15.3.23
No comments:
Post a Comment