Each morning beams
on a name lost in
shards of ephemeral time,
digital visits on screen
from another world
impinge on memories
tagged each day of the year to
unshroud a seeming void.
Holding immortality in the tip of my finger
I bask in make believe ‘alive’
claimed by virtual custody,
in playful flashes worlds merge
I luxuriate in the greenery of
the once vibrant voice and vibes
buried under mossy bed
of wistful sighs.
***
Madras Courier originally ran as a broadsheet with a poetry section. It was a time when readers felt comfortable sharing glimpses of their lives through verse. If you have a poem you’d like to submit, do email us at editor@madrascourier.com.
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