Certain moments remain
poised – forever,
like the drop of water, after the rain,
at the tip of the leaf blade: waiting to fall.

Certain faces cut
the cobwebs of time, and
peek at me, from these hazy woods.

And, I
keep staring at this drop of water,
why does it hesitate.. to let go?

Sometimes, I
find myself talking
to the faces. They remain
silent, returning my words like echoes in a long, empty corridor..

I wonder why ..??

They are dead, perhaps, these faces. And it is their ghosts
that I see, walking idly,
along the long, empty lanes of
my memory

//Date Unknown