On longing days
On longing days I remember the turtle carcasses
At my turtle funerals, her smoke curled up in
ghostly tendrils through the rambutan tree's heavy boughs
the banana plant that bore tiny fruit was behind the mango tree
I found it before the fruit bats.
Rambutans were a mixed bag, mostly rotten before
Now my place is someone else's,and that someone knocked it down, so I wonder
when they broke ground, did their shovels
find soggy paracetamol boxes;
turtle tombs with fossilized secrets,
and those dreams we had.
By Zachary HourihaneQLRS Vol. 21 No. 4 Oct 2022