OLD MEMORIES
Old days, you passed and went so far.
The further you depart, the more
I miss your smell that was inside
the roses that our garden bloomed.

I miss the light the full moon cast
through the vine trellis that allowed
the lunar tender light to pass
through clustered grapes and scattered leaves.

I still recall when we sat there,
and watched the stars to see whose light
was brighter than their sisters gleam
and wondered why they were so bright.

One said they were of bigger size.
Another said they loved us more.
I thought but did not tell the rest
to ripen our still sour grapes.
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
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