Nostalgia

I woke up on a rain washed grey morn

To wish ‘bonjour tristesse’,

To my utter surprise, a yellow glow worm

Impatient in my bosom, crept on a fresh page of the diary.

Pink was I then, renée from a forgettable affair,

The glow worm reaped the nugget of the heart

And some interstellar words were born

Unknown, almost strangers to banal life.

Innumerable hours, numerous moments and some ineffaceable memoirs

Have passed since then;

Some words are still born, some words, sardonic and cynical.

The yellow is all sallow,

The pink remains, yet the source is different,

So does the page…although the worm has suddenly disappeared

In the twilight of the memory.