The portico,

It had been our favourite place,
The portico,
The pebbled way
Leading to the door,

Those earthern tubs,
Those saplings,
Marigolds and jasmines of Aunt's,

It had been our place
To play the entire day,
Running around,
Yelling heart out,

That magnolia tree
Had seen us all, frolicking
And puffing smoke
Our ways of becoming
Finally men

And those railings
Were our bars,
We had the habit of hanging
From them,
Swinging our legs,

How time passed and flowed
We didn't have the scope to think,
We were thoughtless,
We were young,
And we had the portico
And summer afternoons.


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