My Enviable Empty Nest

Astute as a child, whimsical at sixty three,
Askew all schedules, each moment I handpick,
Asking for second helpings of ice cream for free,
Askance I look, should my arthritic knees click.

Spinning in tango, I step on my man’s toes,
Sparking a flame, that humdrum of youth did smother,
Sprawled on the floor exhausted, we laugh at our woes,
Spelling friendship afresh, we’ve renounced all bother.

Perennial attempts to fill each mo’ awake,
Petulant, I pout as melancholy seeps in,
Perhaps like darkness, it was waiting to partake,
Pieces of cheer that I harbour within.

Ephemeral sunshine of memories streams,
Empty, not deserted, my nest holds strong,
Each day I draw up the curtains, chasing my dreams.
Eve and morn, laughter, tears, and song.
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Khushboo Shah

Khushboo Shah is an ophthalmologist by profession. She is either examining eyes or trying to read the stories they tell. Both prose and poetry that she writes are generally heavily inspired by everyday happenings around her.

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