Every time I visit my nani
Aai has a new memory to tell.
This time it was about
a tree
in the building compound.
It has existed, lived
for longer than Aai has.
Blooming, yellowing, eventually
going barren,
and then growing again.
It  has stood there,
watching, giving, supporting
the children playing around it.
It stands there now,
with the adults
watching, giving, supporting
it,
recounting its life
intertwined with their own
and coming full circle.