Dispersed in the thought
Of standing fortunate
With their back on my mind
And palms to hold on to
I was caught unawares
Of how they hid under
Camouflage. Knocking off
My dreams, And oh,
The nine-day wonder.
The shoebox I thrived onto
For moral crutch and stamina
Was lessening off,
Evaporating into the air
Like it never was. I still
Managed to lift the burden
Of its flaps and gently
Turned them out on both sides;
Dusting off the bad glow
Setting the dross aside
I laid my hands on solitare.
Roving my finger tips over
The faces that resided as
Bees in my bonnet, I
Was driven back in time
When we faked the smiles
Before the lens and
I realize, it was not just
Smiles. Pulling back my
Eyes onto the treasury,
The photograph knocked
My socks off
Of its constancy.
Of how it conserved
The indubitable aura
And not let the
Shadows of today dawn
Upon the sunshine within.
Looking through the eyes
Of a yearning boon companion
I hear them apprise me of
Themselves; coming to me
Like a bolt from the blue
Asking me to hit the road.
And now, I stand real.
I stand tall and plumb
By myself; shedding off the
Flight of fancies and
Absorb my present
As my cloud cuckoo land.