CASTAWAY

I wait impassively on my porch,

Lost in the labyrinth of memories.

I yearn for the friends I loved and lost,

Hoping that some day our paths cross.

I invite pitiful glances as I stagger down the stairs,

Reminiscing about the times I would sprint without care.

These pleasures hit me like waves,

Bringing forth sweet memories only to recede in sorrowful caves.

Creases of loneliness paint my face as I struggle to keep pace.

I think about my family between three square meals, but they’ve become a honeycomb of busy bees.

My son has his children to rear,

My presence tests his capacity to bear

My daughter is immersed in a marital life of her own.

I wonder if she ever thinks of Baba she left alone.

I got so busy celebrating my offsprings’ childhood,

That I did not realize old age was catching me up for good.

I understand they are busy dodging clocks,

Their carefully orchestrated schedules would go for a toss

I invested all my time and love over my offsprings.

Is it wrong to expect even a single Tring-Tring?

The wheel of time waits for none,

Their innings will end some day and so will their run.