That Old Familiar Place

The ground behind and beneath

Canvas to my tall shadow figure

The horizon before and above

Shutter in the hands of an expert photographer

The day is looming to an end

The wind has a scent

The scent of buried memories

Clinching loosely to the setting sun

Not sure whether to frown or to smile

For the journey till here

Has been more than a mile

Clinging to the familiar

Is it only for a while?

The past has a friend

His name is regret

The future has a friend

Her name is hope

Both are my friends

But my friends

Love bringing their friends

To my parties

But as the sun

Routinely beckons the night

I choose to divorce one

And marry the other

Till we meet again

My old familiar friend.