Memories

The strands of childhood memories

Are what ties us together.

My uncle lifted me high in the air

To the giraffe's neck on the carousel at the fair,

My grandfather in his planter's chair

Retelling myths and tousling our hair,

My mother drawing kolams on the broad front stairs,

Incense from the puja spiralling everywhere,

Running into the neem's shade from the summer glare,

But mainly the laughter and fun we shared.

And no later memories can erase or compare

With these.

And, like spider silk, the memory strands are so subtly strong,

When we meet after years, we know we still belong

Together!