Sights

Sites that once were homes
and will never return
Lost between the clouds that covered their roofs,
they evaporate towards the memory of
Terraces under a spring sun- Suddenly,
a new patio, of a sixth floor terrace with views of my city;
Thinking of all those
sheltering the first days
of each year, smiling towards life and its clement temperature,
The gaze of a placid lake blurs
with a garden, somewhat abandoned, where I played mother
to dolls of a same name, and their father a dog
who made of these scenes a drawing of nostalgia;
Between today's balconies, appear the laughs of yesterdays' students,
in a communal park, where we escaped the north's harsh winters,
when after a long fight the snow would cede her step,
to the flowers, accomplishing their return.

Like I return, to each home, of each suburb in my story
with the windows of each rooftop,
opened to the wind