Old Horses Still Gallop

By Anustup Sengupta

I picked up the Old Diary,

Bound in leather, now dreary.

Carefully turning over the pages,

Valediction of the old ledges.

Crispy, torn out, tucked in concoction,

The faded ink, the telltale paper fox,

Sandwiched a potpourri.

An old photograph peeped, vague but

The caption was legible :

“”Old Horses still Gallop,

Blunt Hammers still wallop”.

By Anustup Sengupta