passing

freckles

each year a different sun

sprinkled on her cheeks

every Christmas

the list

of card recipients

modified

one year older

Venus is here again

a feeling of loss

watching the storks

go back to Africa

New Year’s Day

with the old agenda

I throw away

a former me

after years

grandpa’s oak table

falling short of expectations

with an icy thrill

I watch his hair recede

over the hill

my last new-born tooth

juicing my tongue

I notice

his first gray hair

and look away

so helpless

I watch my mum’s cheeks

loosen

my grandma’s lilac sweater

painfully empty

brings back her warmth

in my grandma’s cellar

cherry pots

that have outlived her

in the attic

my childhood yearnings

melted into resin

I’m embarrassed

to read

my incurably ignorant

teenage diaries

bicycle riding scars

childhood on my skin

higher and higher

coming back after years

in my secret garden

all pumpkin fairies

extinct

your eyes mature into mahogany

as the summer advances