Hark! The rhythm

Hark! The rhythm. The pellet drum rattles. The dance begins. The creation, the annihilation, the fleeing in-betweens, and beyond these appar...

Sunday, October 2, 2016

The scent of yesterdays

Hey mason!
When you renovate my house,
make sure you leave intact
the imprints of tiny little feet
running in these corridors
Hey painter!
When you paint these walls,
make sure you don't rub out
the doodling stains
scrawled by tiny hands.
Hey carpenter!
When you mold the wood
and carve me doors and windows,
make sure you seal inside
the ringing unripened laughters.
For when I walk pass these,
these corridors,
these doors and windows,
these caricatures,
I can inhale the scents of
yesterdays
of my children
(now working in the valleys yonder),
and their childhood,
fresh and incorrupted.

Linking with Friday Fictioneers

4 comments:

  1. Dear Ruby,

    A sweet story. Nicely done.

    Shalom,

    Rochelle

    ReplyDelete
  2. Your sunflower drew me in - I'm glad I came. Your poem evokes so many memories of my own.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. I too love sunflowers.
      I am glad you can relate to the poem.
      Thanks for visiting.

      Delete

Since every thought is a seed, I am looking forward to a delicious harvest.