Meeting an old friend


Maybe there are better subjects in world’s curriculum,
but together we talk about colors of saucers
and matching cups half-full of our hopes.

The air is crisp, and nostalgic to the tune
of a catchy Bollywood number.
This day smells like ginger tea and oily
fritter balls, old scrapbooks and time-travels.

“Back in our time,” she starts explaining
to her little boy. “Back in our time,”
my mind goes numb, “we never thought  
of tomorrows and gray color, and
revitalizing creams and laugh wrinkles.”
We share the laughter here. Once again.
Like old time. Like old friends do.

The afternoon hides behind the wall of her
dry garden. We use our time, talking about
people we haven’t met in a while, and people 
who left us without uttering an extra word.
We seek tales that we lost to time, and
pictures that could capture some of them.

“Where did a decade go?” she looks for a
clue on every page of her album.
Like clues were that naive to hide there.

I look out of the window: a single maple leaf
is there again on the snowy backyard, winking  
at the evening sky, reminding me of yesterday,
and challenging our tomorrow.
Another day is going to fade, yet again 
we are not scripting our history.

Author: Archita

Musings about life and photography.

16 thoughts on “Meeting an old friend”

  1. It’s touching poem Archita. Picture is stunning, beautiful like your writing. Wish you all the best for 2016. Love and hugs.

  2. That is why every day is filled with opportunity. Opportunity to make it what you want. A flicker of the past, flying through the present, into a future not written yet. Thank you for lovely words.

  3. So beautifully written! Time just flies when you are with an old friend, with someone who knows you best and has been with you throughout your life. 🙂

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