The last edge crammed with words,memories,
Even as the ink fades
Trains caught, things left behind, loves lost, joys found
Bits and pieces of a lifetime, recorded haphazardly , momentarily
Witness,to smiles, sighs, laughter, tears
A postcard, refreshes a yellowing memory.
--shubha
P.S This short poem came to me in response to a prompt of a photograph of an old.15 paise Indian postcard. The poem had to be six lines or less and am happy to share, was selected as one of the winners.
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