Lemon Trees in Midsummer Breeze

 
Those winding hot summer days,
biking on Kingfisher Road,
as we searched for birds,
my neighbours and I,
captured in a faded photograph

In the corner of the city,
after a windy car ride alongside the beach,
lies my brother’s favourite coffee house,
with Malaysian food and relics of beautiful,
conversations about our lives

I still remember those distant,
Friday nights spent at the temple,
the faint smell of sandalwood and,
incense sticks lingered in the air,
as my father and I walked past the
carved sculptures of the Gods

A heavy photo book lies,
on my grandmothers made bed,
my sun burnt hand upon the page,
I stare at faces of my family,
as my mom makes her beloved lemonade

I guess the only thing that remains
after childhood are my memories,
the books I used to read,
my crimson guitar, and
the camera I learnt photography with

***

(Featured image from Pexels)