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Flying on the Wings of Time

Flying on the wings of time,
Arriving at the house
Of my childhood.
Feeling tired,
Starving for affection
All doors are close,
No arms extended.
Eager to embrace me,
My soul impregnated
With melancholic feelings.
Where are the long nights
Curled in grandma's lap?
Exiting to my infantile imagination,
Listening to stories
About those before me,
Becoming alive in my fertile mind.

I see my silver temples now,
I feel the warm body
Of my granddaughter,
Curled in my lap.
Wide open eyes
Expecting in wonder,
To hear the old family stories
> About those before her.


More By  :  Pili Pubul

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