In short term memory, she hears
The longer cascades of old times
Hard of hearing ,sitting by a son,
Her story is embedded in a wall.
Our genre bends to catch sounds
Of free flowing cascades of time.
Our poem is not just confessional.
We listen to free falls of all times.
We witness the simultaneous fall
Of history against rocks of times.
We bend genres to build witness.
The poems witness free flowings.