Now only flood remains in our red tiled floor,
After the unexpected downpour of heavenly angst,
In the mid afternoon gloom…
This to me is a sign of beauty,
My eyes searching for living entities outside the window screen,
But all I found was leaves separated from families,
Our three pet dogs roaming wet; eyes still drowned in fear,
Our washing machine, radio and furniture in a platform,
Slippery but it’s not the reason why I’m still,
My parents motionless drinking hot coffee, talking about historical tear sheds and aftermaths,
No electricity brings families closer,
Just absorbed their stories and the chill of the enduring wind,
Flowers in the backyard are nowhere now,
Old aunties and uncles faces staid in the backyard, gazing at swift ebony clouds
My breath warm like tea,
White haired parents never ceased to give warmth,
Golden advices to love life while young,
I grow old that afternoon,
A twilight glee I possessed as I glow in the creeping night.
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