RAIN CHECK
 
I want a black and white photograph
Of my childhood
I want a sepia tinted one
Of mine
I want those two fat pigtails reach my shoulders again
I want my mother to braid them for me.
 
I search in a plastic box
For such photographs
The album that holds most of them
Is deteriorating
“scan and save on your laptop”
Someone suggests
I refuse to take them out of that album
The plastic covers that are now stuck to them
The humidity has played its role well…
 
Shiny blue shoes
Yellow socks
Smiling at the sun
With eyes shut and baring all my teeth
I had faced the camera
My mother had clicked that photograph.
 
I could be myself
The camera never betrayed us.
I did not want to hide…
 
I give the camera again to my mother
I want to be clicked again
Her hand falters
The glasses that she wears
Fail her
 
She clicks a photograph
The camera has betrayed us.
 
 
BEFORE I LEAVE
 
Et tu?
Facing a mirror
The cell phone flashes
 
It is a goodbye gift
“We will meet again,
Hopefully in better times.”
 
Et tu?
 
The eucalyptus tree folds itself in my dream
The crushed leaves – buried in the palm of my hand
Dark clouds
We exchanged photographs of the evening sky
 
Years have passed
The house leads a desolate life
There was a laugh somewhere
Hidden behind that book
Which I gave you…
 
The cell phone flashes
A new name
 
Et tu ?