Rehnuma Binta Hafiz
Fragrance of the rocks
At any time in past I had listened but, never really cared After rain; an illusion of truth got revealed so dear.
Much dark from its own color; like
an unraveled look of everything.
Much dainty smell from soil; like
an unknown scent of everything.
Once in a mild cloudy day, upon the street pave;
I had walked through but, never really knew
there was fresh moss on some of those
gathered together; littlesome water glided within the spaces. While I had taken some of those in my hands,
an icy sense quivered me.
At any time in now I have never been near enough but, never really forgot those amazed moments over such fragrance of the rocks.
I remended the old glasses that I had broken some months ago, and the wristwatch that had been stuck at 5am for some many years. Then, a decent haircut.
Walking towards home, I went to the bookstore on the streetside that I used to go, and now ending up only seeing it in passing by.
Long-gone beautiful enthuse
Reloving those things as I used to,
I started to relive.