Thursday, November 17, 2022

A CONVERSATION

A gaze on a walk, an old bent lady

a toothless smile 

feet rushed home like never before

Words tumbled to capture her appeal

my first poem took shape.


Shape got swamped in moss of

work, family and inertia.

Uprooting unattended weeds

ideas redecided to 

set sail again on a sea of letters

forging new friendships

to coat thoughts.


Thoughts enjoy the me time

a weekly practice when

emptying scratched treasure

senses experience delight.

A time when existence of

staring table clock seems 

worthless.


It's just me 

and noises on the keyboard

relevant noises for some 

whom I never met

a bond formed on this site.


Every single view and comment

a heartfelt acceptance

to keep making more noise.


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