A RED TICKET, OF ALL THINGS

He sat there

Pondering over the darkness,

Lost in his sweeter lies.

Anyone could have interrupted,

But not her;

Not in her divinity, of all things!

Cerebrating,

over some inked pages,

of pages turning pale.

Desperate to connect

Scrambled pieces

of now and then!

He maundered, 

through the sunlight;

composing his thoughts.

He kept scribbling,

In a bout of

Maudlin self-pity.

He sat there,

Tuned into his jukebox

of memories.

He beheld a red ticket (lying under his feet)

A souvenir 

of some memories bygone.

He sat there 

Enlightened,

As the reality dawned upon him.

No one could have interrupted,

But only her;

Yes, in her aloofness, of all things!