Friday, 1 May 2015

A Nostalgic Fresco

On a Summer midday,I perch in a room,
Devoid of disciples yet full of vim.
Peeling paints reveal the depth of moil.
And,echoes of practice grease the walls.
Filling the envelope of air inside,
Dwindled tantrums dot the uptight decorum.
Musty smell leak from timeworn desks.
Mazes of cobweb creep to the alpine roof.
Long windows open to a flaring mud field.
Crumbs of chalk cuddle the podium beneath,
And, smudge the wash of a worn black board.
Fading words remind of days that blend-
Into the vanishing point.
A twisted smile, an array of gazes,
A flush of thoughts and a deep breath,
All together,paint a nostalgic Fresco.

1 comment: