I’m from a place I still visit in my dreams.
For some it was a refuge, a pit stop,
But for me it was home.

I’m from a place where the cool shade of fruit trees
Multiplied the magic of the carefree summer days
Of my childhood.

Blushing apricots;
Juicy peaches that we could never finish;
Large enamel bowls filled with dark sweet grapes submerged in water.

I’m from a place where ever since I learnt how to swim,
The pool begged me to ignore my sunbaked towel
Until the cool blue water wrinkled my fingertips.

I’m from a place my family never owned
-my grandmother a domestic worker –
But a home nonetheless.

I’m from a place where strong resourceful women dominated,
Where I learnt to read and write,
While both fears and dreams alike were fertilized.

When we moved my eyes welled up with tears…
I’m from a place that my heart, more than a decade later,
Still yearns for in ways I cannot explain.