“She has witnessed…”

Is it really pinker than usual? Old, weathered, beaten, the golden apple tree stands in my backyard. Her leaves dance in the morning breeze like singing kites in the Easter sky. Grey clouds hustle across the clear blue but still the sun fights to make my world a place of vivid greens, yellows and splashes of pink. The bougainvillea is a beacon of pink brightness. … Continue reading “She has witnessed…”

We remember moments, Not days

So many days, hundreds of them were murdered by my weak human memory. And yet, somehow, so many moments remain, preserved, immortalized deep, deep in me. It’s a festival of playbacks in my head; a festival where all these moments attack at once. As I live here now I’m not really alive. I’m never alive unless I live in those moments which keep living deep, … Continue reading We remember moments, Not days