The Gift Poem by Pradip Chattopadhyay
The Gift
Rating: ★5.0
Buried in time-holed yellow papyrus
of an unread book of poems
lay hidden a card
the token of a gift
inked in skeletal scribbles
indecipherable
but for five words
indelible in dusty piles' ravage
speaking the gifter's voice
time has come
right now
ripened
to read the book of poems
honor my words.
read when you forget me.
Thursday, July 10, 2014
Topic(s) of this poem: giving
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4/26/2024 6:27:41 PM # 1.0.0.1119
