Printed Shadows
One step at a time but I stood midway
A middle of a vast living room harbouring past shadows of all ages
My magic balls rolled in their sockets and
suddenly shot at a little barefooted angel
A direct replica of me
Flamboyant flowers in both hands
Smiling innocently with flashy eyes in the camera
I smiled and shook my head while the disk went reverse
I remember those days as a girl of six or seven
Just like yesterday the whistle of the wind through the trees
The tickling of early morning dew on the skin
The joyful singing of the birds and the beaming smile of the sun below the hills
When the sweet scent of flowers fill the whole village
Then we ran across the village like mad dogs
Jumping from one house to another
playing hide and seek sometimes
When we were our own daddies and our own mummies
Hunger had no hold on us then
I wonder how time flies
Indeed the young shall grow.

© Olivia Nutifafa