The castle of our imagination

In the top of the plantain tree we played
When the older sleep their sacred siesta
How young we were
How self-conscious
You climbed the tree and your red hair
Striked me and I notice
Your playful being
Only the sound of the cicadas marked
The time in which we looked  at
Each other no words only
Your eyes your hair long
Cotton dress of your youth
The nature of you being barefoot
We smelled the blue flowers jacarandas
Just few words
Introductions I couldn't
But think of your name
The olive trees an infinite garden
We both sit
The sierras the nearby stone house
Together without talking
Knowing that this is
Just the most beautiful illusion that will end
With the summer

A Paulann Petersen