Dust Covered Peace
In a dusty corner of her Achchi’s house
She found something she hadn’t seen before
It was in the dusty handkerchief that Seeya once used
Lying forgotten on a dusty dressing table, the mirror a
cracked web
“What is this, Achchi?” she asked,
“I’ve never seen it before!”
Achchi held the handkerchief to her nose, breathing in the
faint scent
Seeya’s once favorite perfume still there, unbeaten by age
She gave it to the little on, a gift to be treasured
“I haven’t seen it in many years
But I think its called peace!”
No comments:
Post a Comment