A lone leaf flutters on
the withered branches
of my mind…
A broken memory of
the withered bark
that's left behind.
The rotting wood's a reminder
of what could have been…
If not for time and its
wretched burials in between.
The tree now, a hollow
coffin does become…
a rubble of time and
its wretched sum.
Anirban Kapil Baishya (March 11th, 2014)
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