Face

Face in my memory,

precarious as a droplet hanging from a leaf;

my longing to hold on to it

the greatest threat to keeping it.

How fragile everything is.

Reminiscence

When I reminisce about my childhood,

I am running with my schoolbag on my back;

exulting in the speed: one leg extended forward,

the other crooked at the knee,  foot in mid-air;

and a broad grin across my face, brimming happiness.

The church is in the background with a brilliantly coloured Calvary grotto,

and there’s the school and the Harrison Hall, all shining

against a cloudless azure sky.

And all of that is gone

as suddenly as a blizzard  strikes with the flick of a wrist.