I burn my fingers
Trying to sift
through the pages of calender
Days are collected into months
Months into years
glued together so hard

I try and live one date
The day that carries a long tail
Consisting of yesterdays
jumps into an ocean
Turbulant with waves
Immersed in tomorrows

The table I sit upon
For that solitary supper
Of a lifetime
woven intricately out of moments
Lay in front of me
All four courses neatly arranged
Forks, knives and spoons
At their designated places
Napkins neatly folded

Dumbfounded I sit
With my back slouched
My elbows resting on the edge of this honorary table.

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Pritpal Kaur
Pritpal Kaur
A television journalist turned writer I have been writing short stories and poetry for almost twenty five years. Masters in Physics and Education, turned to Television journalism and gradually shifted to full time writing. Taught physics for a year at University of agriculture. Meanwhile worked for All India Radio as announcer. Reported for “Parakh” and later worked with NDTV. Got into professional writing somewhere along the line. Have also produced documentaries for television and radio.