Poem : Toys are Ageing

My toys are ageing.

My coltish Equus

The aged camel

With dropping neck

And stooping desire,

Stares haggardly.

I hold them dear.

And clean the dust of snippets

Of my infantile patrimony.

The circle around my eyes

Turn sombre

As slumber of melancholy grows intense;

My withered skin of forehead

Pities the rust and moss I gathered so far in rolling

Thus, I hold my toys

And croon,

Age and innocence is such a boon!

9 February 2021

© Swarnadip Chatterjee