Looking through the cherished wealth
I can only find the little times
Sparkle between great moments
Of respect and deeds,
Untold to friends unwritten in diaries
Kept under oath of secrecy
A black dress with the green border
And then the white-black silk after many years
Of wait and lasting desire-
Little corner shops serving few of soups
Long walks for the last two back bus seats
White vases that waited enough to get the flowers
Shops visited often selected but bought later,
All of this as we look the old papers
Kept by mother near before she left
Traditions are meant to continue, but only
In the survival of little things.
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