As a small boy, with mama and my little sister,
to grandma we walked,
down a hill, upon a stream with no bridge to cross,
looking at the tadpoles-and then i thought they were fish,
or so they looked, but they were darker and looked so greasy,
but sweet as life was, as this look comes again to me,
so vivid, i can hear the snoring of the frogs,
and the cricking of crickets
where the good days were,
there where the world was, a good place i want to be!
Always in the visit, this way we preferred,
not just for the tadpoles, or the stream but for the look,
to see the only storied building in our area then from a distance,
these happened when we walked up the little hill to the other ridge,
and there it was, a perfect view, and mama would always dare us,
to locate our family house from such a distance,
and we, always could get it,
because of the big avocado tree behind my room!
i always got it! call it cheating but i got it even at only five,
back then when the world was good!
After the dusty road came another slope,
steeper than the first and yes the other steep slope met it in the middle,
and the river-which is now a stream due to eucalyptus!
was slithering down there, hissing like a giant snake,
We loved it, mama knew this, she liked it when we run down there,
getting near the tunnels just to listen to the hissing sound!
I can here the sound refresh my mind, even now,
and those black insects that always caused ripples,
how i enjoyed it?
back then in those happy days that the world was still good,
and i miss those times,
but the rivers are now drying up,
my kids will never enjoy this hissing sound,
they will not see tadpoles swim like fish,
they may never see the view because sky-scrappers run the air,
And this saddens me.
As i remember that once in the old days,
the world was a good place.
To be a child, to be silly and have fun,
and to be damn in safe hands in your sillyness
and all this is gone now,
so i look back at when the world was a good place to be