Editor's Choice
Theme: Ageing

Eyeing The Mariner

Bones lose their élan as years 

burrow into the marrow; 

Age has a canny way of nudging the missive. 

The last sigh may not smell of rose. 

Faces that were known in the vicinity 

Of your own orbit now seem jaded. 

Their paths hardly crossed yours, 

tempers frayed by the travails of the journey. 

Their eyes meet yours, yet seem so far 

that memories do not wet the shore. 

As if a tsunami of time has left a gaping void. 

Have their faces shriveled into a ghostly outline? 

A “hello” sounds emptier than the 

beating of the drum; stands out as an odd decibel

unblessed by a well-woven song. 

Lingo losing its sap, a drifting wood.  

Is it now a wait only for the last moment, 

a weather-hewn canoe eyeing the mariner? 


More By  :  K.S. Subramanian

Views: 1438     Comments: 2

Comments on this Poem

Comment Thank you Abu siddik.

Ks subramanian
15-May-2020 22:43 PM

Comment Poignant and insightful! Kudos poet,

Abu Siddik
15-May-2020 13:02 PM

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