We met after years.

We always wanted to meet

Greet each other in the same old tone,

Hurling careless, loving curses.

With soft whispers of naughty remembrances.

Alas, the pathetic push & pull of life;

Dust winds of new wants and desires,

Sent that old group photograph,

Back into the backyard;

Full of old trunks and hold-all.

We met after years.

We knew where the old wretched keys are,

It took a while, though

To unlock the unattended, rusted, beaten lock.

Some could recollect faces, but had no name;

Some didn’t even remember names!

But one small mention,

And the same face became a giant screen!

Images and pictures slid by in a jiffy,

Like an old eastman-color movie trailer.

It was a short time, together

But time was well lived.

We shared, smiled and shouted

Laughed, sighed and whispered.

At the end of the evening,

We stood for a moment,

And made a promise, again.

To try to keep the lights on

Of our backyard;

To keep wiping off dust,

From that old group photograph.