Windfall

Photos along a soft-centred wall     like assorted chocolates     with prized centres,     tiny miniatures -     full portraits     the young army major, for one,     in battle fatigues come full family regalia.     Mounting the staircase     (tearing back the chocolate paper)     shroud hand on the railing,     pressuring the cherry liquid     into oozing burst of memory,     the nectarine orange of a summer's day.     Swing & garden loom into view,     the mind plays thoughtscapes,     a tag ensemble, along the wall.     Old colours (or lack of them) abound -     the antiquated dress & hairdos     of grandparents that speak lavishly,     into taste buds, across the fallen years.     Ivy & ivory fan, kitten on a rocker,     cradled baby that amounts to me,     the sun coming home to roost on this plaintiff, pleading wall.     Passage of thought     into this chocolate box -     the lid off stern memory     prying forth a directory of     mouth-watering choice,     or so the advertisers' claim.     Yet do we ever thought     over what we taut (in our heads)     we are? My dad in Kenya (a time and age     from this perspective like the peanut brittle)     or grandfather, about eight, from the dreamy,     dark cream & nougat reaches of layered black space     that speaks the aeons ago -     his manner and distance a smoky haze     from the twilight "special occasion"     Black Magic chocolate box.