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Line Prompt



Fleeting memories


The day dies,

Slipping quietly into the pool of eternity.

Can I salvage a past moment?

A myriad shades attached to its vibrancy

Have paled. Alas! Now it’s tinted

In monochromatic hues of memory.

Stowed away in my closet-like mind,

Stacked carefully, it hangs limply

To be retrieved in a blinding spell

Of nostalgia from the repository.

How Time’s aslant light discolors

The jealously guarded fragments of past,

Corroding the fabric of memory.

In trinkets, heirlooms, cherished jewellery,

Hidden in the cool interiors of objet d’ art

I try to pick up pieces of fantasy,

From yarns spun in leisure

Perhaps by my chignoned

Lavender-scented granny

With her crow feet eyes sparkling joyously;

Or is it the fairy tale moment

When mother bends down to work

On her tapestry? May be it’s my father

Racing with his golden spaniel

Who embraces him gleefully.

Or it’s a frozen moment at the periphery

Albeit tucked away,

It re-emerges suddenly.

This fragment I run away from

Is my shadow, dark and gloomy,

Uncovering a naked me.

I tear myself from me

And my shadow that haunts me.

Catching me unawares,

It alarmingly remains with me.


© Mumtaz Khorakiwala



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