Rites Ghosh

A Journey Remembered

Milestones of a forlorn road
lie wayside
under mists and partial shadows
behind wintercanvas -
may be a poor artistry
or, to a modern gaze,
an unexpected result of
a heavy pencilwork.

The rough shades of sky-
these blurred stones
with shadowy green feet-
the enormous curve disappearing
like a ragged bohemian
to another life-

no house scripted here,
no clatter of life-
no good, no evil-
no taunt, no praise-
mangled loneliness' being
only lies-

often in my morning bed
They come.
They say-
this incredibly lonely road's
as old as the cherished life-
these milestones are not dry metaphor,
they salvage us-

I toss up this dark comfort.
While under shades of old blurring tree
mists hang,
a shadow moves-
one starts up a journey.

Submitted: Thursday, May 22, 2014
Edited: Friday, May 23, 2014

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