Price of leaving
were two bags and a plane ticket
inconsequential at best
for, the promise of vast skies
made untangling of roots worth while

Over the years, as the bags aged
contents inside drained and exchanged
a few more price tags appended
more than initially expected

beer with an old friend
aromas of mother’s kitchen
chitter chatter of birds on the balcony
honks and sounds in the gully
meaningless laughter and celebrations
gatherings and gossips with relations

the bags, now –
Lie inconspicuously in the basement
with broken handles and many subtractions
YET, attained the status of being priceless
for, they are symbols of an immigrant’s sacrifices.

Photo by nappy from Pexels


Inspired by

  1. V.J.’s Weekly Challenge
  2. Euji’s Weekly Prompt
  3. Free Verse Revolution’s January Writing prompt #3