By Nafiz Imtiaz Emu
Here,
by the doorway of my room,
this worn-out witness
of endless roads,
a traveler
that wandered,
now rests still
before me,
silent.
Surrounded
by the dust of time,
these old things,
forgotten shirts—
only you held on
to the truth of the road,
survived the gravel’s bite,
the pressing weight
of every step,
the endless miles,
only you: scarred,
cracked-leathered
symbol of endurance.
Only you:
a steady companion
on the journey,
carrying
your many
hidden aches,
Strong, always
holding firm,
gripping tightly to the ground,
soles worn
by countless strides
and the pull of the road,
like a quiet traveler,
a silent friend,
marked by rain and time.
Now,
before me,
retired hero of my adventures;
once
soft as new bark
on bright morning paths,
once a partner
in hurried storms,
now only worn remains.
In the mess of memories,
you are the one
that stands,
unchanged,
in the jumble of my past, you are
a quiet reminder of endless steps.
Your seams and shape,
marked
but steady,
as if you still
stood firm against the wind,
the only
true tool of the road:
unbroken,
unyielding,
walking even now
through the paths of memory.
Nafiz Imtiaz Emu is a computer science major at LaGuardia Community College who has always sought to express his most melancholic and imaginative thoughts through writing. Though rooted in the logic of programming and problem-solving, he finds solace in transforming introspective moments into words. Writing has long been his way of giving shape to emotions and ideas that often resist structure—an artistic counterpart to his technical pursuits.
Art by: Vincent van Gogh (Dutch, Zundert 1853–1890 Auvers-sur-Oise), 1888, Shoes.
