Anthology

i find solace in words

like fruits being

plucked from a tree-

these thoughts

quite juicy and ripe

are oft times lost

 in the nomadic jumble

of this busy life.

and yet each word
that accumulates
in my head

 has a thread that needs

to be re-traced-

perhaps to a

secret path,

a secret garden.
a place i could come to
over and over again.

hence i strive

to pick up the 

crumb trails of the day;

tying them furiously

in knots and fringes-

weaving them in

in the tapestry of days and

months and years...

lest i end up losing

bits and pieces of me
in the day when i will truly
need to remember
who i am.

by kaye