Memories..,

down those scapes sits an old lady,
in this wretch heart's dearly missed,
her picture,
in mind vividly etched,
her wrinkled skins,
many a ages seen,
sorrow filled eyes ,
many a cries of her long gone son,
that a turn of decades a soil,
and giving up bones left,
though life to her a fire and ice rage brought,
a hope of a happy home she never lost,

and now she sits,
beside those three stones a flame burns,
watching over that soot endowed pot as it boils,
all alone,
no one her to help,
still holding to the little energy left,

in my young days her i barely understood,
why she would talk to the cow while milking,
why we ate a half loaf of bread for two weeks,
or why she would never buy me school clothes,
reasons i patches a name got,
but now time be gone,
realization i never slept hungry,
sugarless black tea and sweet potatoes,
a delicacy was,
sleep on a hide caught,
beside a calf and two goats,
the only family i knew,
stuck in seclusion,
mean eyed relatives all around,

and though forgotten the two were,
a happy times always was,
sundays and christmas she would make me brave the cold river fetched water,
and scrab me with a bar soap on a cut off polythene sack,
cover in petroleum jelly,
and into the used yet well kept garments...

memories

©2011