The winter brought memories,
Rather too deep to hinder, and
Rather too vague for worries, but
Let me seek out the sole heap
Of expiations I let go in hurries,
Because I remember the purple
Flowers you held in your arms
When I loved the colour, and I
Remember the carved words on
The tree trunk which seldom
Read of our silly, absurd hunts
For pebbles which resembled a
Bunny, or a sun, or the drop of
Honey; I remember the switch of
Our moods when our hearts were
Sombre of cards of TV shows, and
How we always liked Bubbles from
Powerpuff girls; I remember how
My hand went stiff when you’d stop
To examine the shells in the sand
Because I had just learnt that land
Had crabs too, and how many pages
You burnt of my favourite sad words
Because you thought uncanny spirits
Had split my head in hurt; I remember
The wit with which we solved to mend
Our itches, when mother held the hold
Of our eyes, like witches, and we would
Laugh because we should. Remember
These words, little sister, because your
First cry for me still blisters in the clad
Of the place which drove us mad; for
I will never forget the close, warm space
Between your tiny fingers when you held
My hand in yours today, and for I knew this
Was (and will be) always my only wonderland.


11 thoughts on “Wonderland

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