The Recycle Bin Poem by Pankajam Kottarath

Feasting my soul
with broken memories
I sit in the awning
browsing my brains
to unearth those caved in its depths.

Bits and pieces of the past
invade my slothful hours
as sporadic wanderers.
It seems to own a smart way
retaining selected few,
petty ones shed as curry leaves,
perhaps not to strain too much,
a wholesome way
to hold what is needed.

Yet I discover in its archives
gems among the junk
worth recycling
and search for threads
to fasten them together.