A Memoir
Something never turns back -
Time is that genre so prime;
getting past often so fast,
makes all run after the vast
meandering path of life
full of bustles, full of strife.
Todays or tomorrows just live
a short while, so fast and active,
memories overcasting minds,
find time so short lasting.
Just last year you went past
a shocking loss still lambastes.
Diving in the divine ocean,
for gems of your all sweet passions,
your memoir is written in tears -
as a companion to adhere
to my sand dune of hot blast
like planets deeming to last.
[ Written on the first death anniversary of my wife in October,2005]
poem by Gautam Sen
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