The Polaroid
Sixteen times had I made the attempt, I exactly counted them, each one of them... Not once though could i muster so much courage, As to walk to the open drawer standing beyond where I lay, The light had been dimmed and brought back to life, the same number of times The moth that had been sitting peacefully at the helm of the silent gramophone grew restless... The disquiet,so palpable in the turbulent air stream of the room was a discernible warning for the peace loving creature... As the waves of quiescence settled into uniform pattern of jitters in my mind, They brought along,vivid scenes of some distant block of memory in me.. Each such feeling so strong,it swept delicately fragrant rhythms of soulful vision; A vision, that was a time which was the present;some time in my past... And such was the charm of the music,no symphony could have ever created Peace as sublime as a mortal can feel punctured the jitters as ruptured bubbles.. That tranquil smile spreading on my face, br