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Those sweet memories,
Sketchy photos from long ago.
Time seems so distant.
Only now do I feel a dull ache,
Longing for the past.

I hear the wind whistles,
Reminds me of my grandmother’s kettle.
Cool jasmine tea,
Melting in my eager tongue,
As I listened half attentively to my grandmother.

The touch of my mother’s kiss,
Taking me in her fond embraces.
Joyful reminder of her love,
Never doubting, yet often questioning.

The wool sweater I wear,
Itches against my skin.
How I remember these!
I once stitched them together,
Tying them with my nimble fingers,
Only to tear them apart with frustration.

The sun’s rays flutter on my cheek,
Taking me to my summer of innocence.
I can’t help but watch enviously,
As children shriek with laughter.

The wet tears on my cheek surprises me,
My heart wishes for me to stay,
I desire to melt into the background,
Never take the step forward,
Stay in this shelter of comfort.

My father takes my hand,
Chiding me softly for my tears,
Reminding me once again,
“Home is where the heart is.”