The journey

The people in the car
Stiff, stuck-up
Eyes glued to the screens
Not even an ack
Not even a smile
in their phones
Jabbing at the keys
Headphones in their ears
And a young man
P’raps as stuck-up
Observing it all
Penning it all

Wisp of Air

(regurgitating an old post)

As I look out of the window
And see my home pass by
I realize that years have passed
Time has flown
There must be my marks in that house somewhere
A wisp of my breath lingering
Some evidence that I had once lived here
And that house was but my belonging
The street outside must have my footmarks
Certainly the marks of the cycle I rode
My school must still have my mischief in its corridors, I’m sure
And the where I played;
Oh, the trees must recognize me surely

But I realize
There are new dwellers now
The home, the street, the school, the garden
Which I once called mine, are someone else’s now
For my marks were only temporal
I had no claim
The stay was short
But the desire strong
In the scheme of things
I have moved on
I will move on
Guess, I’ll hardly be anywhere
But for a minutiae, a blip
And a lingering wisp of air…