Good old summers

 The good old guava tree, 

in the backyard. 

lush and green. 

the fruit, ripe and rich. 

The squeaking squirrels 

nibbling on an occasional find, 

often the envied red-one.

The cacophonous camaraderie, 

showing off their skills, 

riding their bicycles adventurously. 

The traditional blue handpump, 

the zealous moving of piston, 

the gush of cold, clean water. 

The rather long power cuts. 

The family time gatherings, 

on an old rickety folding bed,

its coarse cotton tape, 

woven in definite pattern, 

every season.

The night time stories, 

and the mesmerizing voice of gran. 

The memories of  summers, 

buzzing, with love and laughter, 

fading slowly. 

Linking with 100 word Wednesday 165

Welfare unto all 

Rab rakha 🤗 🤗 🤗