Poem by Jagdish Prakash
MANY SHADES OF GREY
Grey has fifty shades or more, they say
But just a single one identifies me
The grey in my thinning hair
Resting on my receding hairline
Reminding me of tiny time specs
Fading on my memory’s by lanes.
First thing first I see in the mirror
Every morning before I set our
For the day.
A few calendar dates
Patched on my present
Like a band aide on a fresh bruise
Keep the itch for a recall.
Don’t dust the old storybook, my friend
Dust will clog the nostrils
Only the haze will fly
Blended with all shades of grey.
I run my fingers over the grey hairline
Feeling the soft pate wrinkled and dry
Winking to myself I rise
In the morning’s hazy glow.
Suddenly a voice nudges softly,
Pick up the empty milk can and go
Before the queue lenthens
At the milk booth !