Notes

​Some notes I had once written
on small tickets, torn last pages
even napkins.
About sunshine, flowers, birds,
and some about you.

Found one such today
hidden in that old notebook
Couldn’t find the rest.
If you ever get them
in that old trunk you left with
Do throw them back to the wind.

What use is it to you anymore
What use to me.
But may be someday
when other hearts look for words
these notes will live again.

© Arindam Dey

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