[Borrowed the name from Samudra Kajal Saikia Da's comment when the poem was posted in my FB timeline]
I am sitting in my veranda,
Amidst all the hustle and bustle outside my window.
The random people, the roads,
The buses, cars, or the houses around ....
I wonder what stories they could be living
Or which one could be similar as mine
I keep nomadizing
Drifting from one thought to another...
Getting lost in own thoughts
Can also be so peaceful
I just realized.
A bunch of drying leaves, I kept in my veranda.
Blending in yellow & green
Life and death are
The stories they are telling
Does it make death more beautiful
More divine
I do not know, I never wondered
There, I wasn't sad, I wasn't content either.
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