Black & white and sepia

I see images of a day, etched somewhere, buried beneath, coming alive.
I haven’t kept away from them, neither have I abandoned them.
But they got lost somewhere, when I stopped to watch.
Awestruck by a rainbow, or a flitting butterfly.
And then another spectacle took over, overwriting memories.
With a fresh ink everyday because there is not much space.
For the happiness chapter is an abridged version and limited edition.