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A vintage story

 

Well, it’s been a sorted mess

At times in the limelight;

In dark at the backstage

Bound to happen I guess

In a relationship so vintage

 

Quest started by following

Stars on a cloudless night

Someone made a dreary device

Traced rains on one fine evening

Then observed next day’s bright

 

Finicky and Frantic, wasn’t he?

Sleepless night owl so deadly

I bet, about that maverick

What on earth made him put

Seven days in a week?

 

Flipping and flopping

Hooked on a windy window

It takes me through a journey

Grey and light passes by

Mere numbers guard me daily

 

Had ageless moon any say??

While baptizing bloody “Monday”

I wake up with cringing eyes

Paints my all veins blue

Whenever it strikes my way

 

Tuesday drags me in the routine

Toggling between life and self

Sluggish three days are WTF

Late night coffee and a buried ‘why’

Leaning with a soothing sigh

 

Last two days are called weekend

Their fast pace is too unpleasant

How do I gauge far or near

Count of few three hundreds

And it crossed another year?

 

 

Juggling me in other’s memory

Tender thanks and series of “sorry

It bonded time to come back never

Together on an uncertain venture

Just told you the Story of

Me and that Calendar
 

© Juhi Gupte

poemstory

◄ Flute and the Cross

But not for you ►

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