It`s the season of memories
raining down
at me, running amock in a frock
in my grandparents` farm.
Feeding my goat…riding my calf;
picking peas…climbing trees.
Chasing pigeons.
Watching the world go upside down
as I hung
from mango trees.

It`s the season of memories
trickling down
the corner of my eyes.
The first rush of love.
The warmth in gentle smiles.
Walking hand in hand, talking
until dusk do us part
with the promise of another tomorrow.
And I brush them away
with a flick of my fingers.

It`s the season of memories
pushing out
through dark crevices
of my heavy heart.
Sunshine in my window;
The house wafting in the warm aroma
of freshly baked bread.
A game of scrabble in the courtyard.
The uprooted pieces come hurtling
as my world turns upside down.