Theme: Time

The Residue

The train snails over the bridge,
And abridged history flows in sheets there under.
Lights from the opposite bank
Try hard to swim across to this end.
Reminding that night has aged
Few strands shimmer here and there.
That lone boatman on the river
Breaks silence’s sway with his song.
The reverberating ripples
Gambol with the temple steps.
As I dip my hands
To snatch the intersection of tenses
Time slips through my finger fins
Leaving my cusp wet with experience.


More By  :  N. S. Murty

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