Aroma
Sometimes we don't notice,
A lingering intangible essence
Of things lost with time,
Still reminding, it once existed.
The smell of the sunshine,
Still on the silver clouds
Floating on the evening sky,
Starring down at the moonflowers.
The fragrance of the incense stick,
Enveloped on the tulsi leaves
Reminding of the sharp long sound,
Of the holy, white, conch shell.
The smell of the black coffee,
Smeared on the assignment papers,
Which now lies on the desk
Waiting to be submitted.
The letter still has her smell,
At every fold of the paper.
Reminds of her bright smile,
Everytime he read those words.
The aroma of her wet hair,
Envelopes his now-old heart.
Reminds of those younger days,
When they were a newly wed couple.
The smell of the old man,
Still there on the gramaphone,
Like a recently heard song
Hummed at the tip of the tongue.
Smell brings us memories,
Of existence which was once there.
Reminds us of their presence
And also the void of their absence.
2020-07-26 13:16:18
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