The path bends at the horizon
Throwing the hues of grey
With those forgotten rhymes
The moon wakes up by the bay
Without a destination, alone, I walk
Listening to each struggling breath
My life, like my fading shadow
The soul quietly burning in stealth
Where are those birds flying back?
Where are their nests?
Does someone miss them somebody moans?
Or amidst the crowd, are they all alone?
Subodh Gadgil (June 26, 2022)
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