Dust of Miles


The heart wanders restless

The steps drag on

leaving muddy footprints behind
and the waters of lands afar come onto the shore to wipe them away.
I had held a hand once
the warmth of which had made me feel sunny in the autumn of my life.
I hear the clock ticking in the silence of the night
And the dog crying out for his mate.
The bus rattles the memories in my head when it goes over a pothole.
The forehead is blessed with the dust of miles.
Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s