Sunday Wordsmiths By Aparna Mandal

Who lives to tell a story Many or not so many Stories converge The gathering of events The past, the present Eyes tell stories So do hands Walls, bags, tickets, towels All have stories A room is alive So is my heart As my pots and pans burn on the flame My mind simmers with stories Of days bygone, of days to come The hearth is warm Cold are the hands Colder are the hearts All have stories to tell Stories to suppress And stories to retell.

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