Memories

Last time I saw your eyes
they were cold like
the month of November
Perhaps Winter came too soon in your heart
and maybe your were putting up with me
because of the residual heat
leftover from our warm Summer days together
but those days have expired, haven’t they?

The old lady at
the corner of the street that we used to
help with her tea shop
is still the same old lady that we knew back then
and her tea is still hot and serene as ever

The park at
the corner of the street that we used to
have picnics and exchange
kisses
is still the lush, emerald scenery that we enjoyed back then
and our whispers
still cling
on the back of the black and yellow cupids who would
eavesdrop our love poems

The bump at the corner of the street
on which I tripped
and fell on you and my face tangled
with your rose scented hair
is still there;
waiting to intertwine the destinies
of unsuspecting passers-by

Even the weather is still shaping the same clouds above our heads

Ask the old lady, the teashop, the park, the bench, the flowers,
the bump, the clouds –
What has changed?