, , , , , , ,

I dreamt of the street

I had trodden on everyday

I dreamt of the high building

I called my own for years

I dreamt of the lonesome park bench

I would sit on, at dusk

I dreamt of a house

I’d go to every now and then


I dreamt of a familiar looking woman cooing at her baby

I dreamt of the coloured swings

I dreamt of the places we’d go to

I dreamt of the tree carvings


I dreamt of our long conversations

That kept us awake whole night

I dreamt of your farewell party

With you squealing with delight


I woke up with a smile

I woke up full of life

The past however turbulent it had been

Was also filled with cherishable memories.