Coloured Memories
I started cleaning the attic, I stopped…I saw an old book.
‘Diary 2012…PS: Private – Do Not Open.’
I fumbled, through the dog-eared pages
All written in my unattractive scribble.
Pages bordered with crisscrossed drawings,
Each page; a different colour:
One’s green, the other’s blue-black.
Pages colourful… some with many pictures,
And some had less, or none at all.
Going to keep it? Yes, of course.
Then something fell, a paper… a very old one.
It looked at it…and smiled. Something I’d drawn.
With my friends, in our school uniforms.
I’m the one with the pulled back hair.
Then there were my teammates… each reminding me:
A night of stargazing, a swim in a beach,
All those crayons and markers...how we used them.
How all of us, on our own, took one colour and
Slowly, but steadily, coloured our dreams.
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