i was sitting at the porch,
drinking tea to refresh,
the 4pm sun,was near the tree,
stuck between the branches and leaves,
trying to move west,not in a hurry...
the cycle bell rings- tring- tring,
it's the postman,outside,
with the book-post,shining-
this month's magazine...
he has grown older,
now to almost a grand father,
more grey hair,
still has the tired smile,
the same half -second glance...
i felt the same sun,evergreen,
tree,taller now,with no breeze,
postman,aged,with same bliss,
and me,10 years old,wondering...
i could see the old me,
the school girl,free,
the yearnings same,
which made moments of life,
still same yet growing with time...
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