A ten by eleven tomb, lock secured, across the hall from the communal bathroom.
Up the long, steep, short tread stairs,
where many had been before and would come more,
With their ecstasy safely anchored to bottomless despair.
...
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Nice details of nomadic existence we bear yet. Just a singer knows how the melody floats every sphere of life waiting to be touched by a sensitive heart. Yes cable is very much in need for temporary staying. Good sending. Regards, pranab
now that's poetry... the scars of a road that the lonely travel....