Memory

The day that I fell in love with you,

It was raining blossoms.

The word “love” was spelled across the sky

By the breeze that used the clouds to write with!

And the wilderness

Was a span of green – as endless as Freedom –

And widening by the minute!

In bed at night,

I would stare in your open eyes

Until they accepted the triumph of sleep;

And when the sun rose in the morning,

I would look at your face,

Until you opened your eyes,

And the confidence-inspiring sentence “I love you”

Ran on your lips

Like a stream of honey and milk!

The hope of returning to a hearth

Warmed by your presence

Made easy

The days of work and worry

And the interaction with men,

Who would spit on the sidewalks

Without respect for savoir faire;

Men for whom driving against the traffic

In one-way streets

Had less significance

Than the veil that they wanted their wives covered with.

And I would not whine.

I would not complain!

Here, now,

In this alien land

That has no regard for aliens,

Your memory

Is blurry and shapeless,

Like the clouds that are pregnant with tears.

And the sky seems to have

The zygote of endless rainy days in its womb

Even on sunny days.

The once green wilderness

Is now an arid span

Without any hope

Of any vegetation or procreation.