that place

that place

still narrates our old tale
there was our meeting sometime.

the shaded street with its tall trees,
the moving of the traffic and their uncertain noise.
it still reminds me of our rare passing by
and the silences that we wore too.

today, as i retreat my steps on the same street,
i see how our unspoken words have made pages
of pavements and compound walls.
and mellowing branches bend over
to read from those pages to their new born leaves
in the fading evening light.