grandma’s backyard

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grandma’s backyard was one of my favorite places growing up. there was a lemon tree under which i played, making mud cakes. there were stray cats that sometimes i brought indoors and grandma would patiently let me. memories of sweet treats and silly talks. and even though grandma’s eyes might become distant and forget, that old lemon tree is still there, yielding fruit, telling stories.

o quintal da avó era um dos meus lugares predilectos, enquanto miúda. havia um limoeiro, debaixo do qual eu brincava, fazia bolos de lama. havia gatos vadios que, volta e meia, levava para dentro de casa e a avó pacientemente deixava. memórias de coisas doces e conversas meio tontas. e mesmo que os olhos da avó se tornem distantes e se esqueçam, o velho limoeiro ainda lá está, a dar fruto e a contar histórias.

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