The top left corner of the bookshelf,
The packing of bags,
A sunbeam you saw at the 4th grade, you started existing from then,
The final sleepover with your friends, the far trip calm trip too,
The tought of playing with crayons, clays again, then the final cut of all the movies in your line,
Many after life dreams of a more life, never knowing the end,
Somewhere raindrops creak on a glass ceiling, and somewhere else an ice cream bus,
Village ghosts were yesterday, today ghosts-our faith,
Not waiting for a closure, anything orange, blue,
But you.. you
zaki monzer 