Where the Wild Violets Grow

Where Wild Violets Grow

by MYRYN VILLAFLOR

There’s something nostalgic about
dimly-lit roads and faded footpaths,
rickety lamp posts and over-shadowing
tree trunks, as though, they exude familiarity
like the scent of monsoon winds before it rains.
But, my own heart, would only pronounce
me a treasonist, for, over many summers,
I learnt to love the peculiarities, the oddities,
and the nonsense of this land,
this foreign land… others call home.

merdivinity

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