(81) Brick and mortar.

( 81 ) Brick and mortar
When the knaves pulled down the ancient building,
it was not the lime and brick and mortar,
it was not the crumbled pieces that were strewn,
it was not the timber and wood pieces that
once protected the roofs and decorated the cupboards,
not, the mango trees, that were felled, nor even
the tamarind clusters that once brought much money,
it was not these material objects that saddened my thoughts,
it was the very memory, it was the life and breadth,
it was the LIFE SOURCE THAT LIVED THERE FOR A CENTURY,
THESE REAWAKENDED MY THOUGHTS,
the old grandfather clock that was thrown by the mason,
Still tick-tocks to approve that there is life,
the felled plantain leaves and the dried up tender stems,
take me those tender days that were fresh as salad,
Prepared by my grandmother, the savour still lingers my tongue,
I tread through still brick and mortar,
The building is gone, but the memory lingers on.