Marigolds in the summer of 90

When blue skies would roll into woven grey
You’d look up and say
” There’s going to be rain tonight!!”

Me and seven seas from across, hope
That the weather in central is also the same
Optimistic and ever eager

What I wouldn’t do
To go back into monsoon of 90’s

Several lifetimes, disappear in a blink
I am not ready for goodbyes of ‘until later’

I see you nurturing marigolds
Wearing old t-shirt and shorts
Tending, so I wake up to a rainbow of colours

Half asleep, hair a mess
And barely ready for school
A gentle kiss and a brush of your stubble
You wish me a good day, whiffs of oldspice

And now that I pack to be two thousand miles apart
But you, still have my heart…

Any time I’m lost
And anywhere I go
You’ll be my way back home
And whenever it rains in the central
I will always know
You would have called it on grey-blue woven day