Inhaling the present
In grandmother’s ancient stories
Wrapped in nine yards of love
With her voice holding you
In willing custody–
Changeless stories that change
At every breathless telling
Depending on the age
Of the open-eyed listeners–
Or stories murmured by
Unmarried aunts
Of how in another time and place
Bushy raised eyebrows
Blasted the ceiling
When young virgins got strangely sick
Or stories you can now narrate
To your texting children
Of how you were once prepared
To stick to ”alternative facts”
When you were seen outside the college canteen
By Father Panicker, with a lit cigarette
Held firmly behind your back
With the rising smoke
Making you look
Like a soon to be appointed pontiff–
He could not place your face
Shrugged his shoulders and you escaped.
Evocative, engaging ,peerless.
Thank you very much, Louis.
Lovely..Dreamy reminiscing one 🙂
Thank you,dear Monika.
Ah! Evocative and so redolent with the young glittering life 🙂 .
Ah! Evocative and redolent of young glittering life 🙂 .
Thank you,dear Anita.