when winter came to stay.
We couldn't wait for it to end
so spring would come our way.
Every year with the turn of the sun
our house would smell so very different.
The rooms would brighten up even at night
and for once mother wouldn't have to worry bout the rent.
At the end of February
we all kept watch on our mother's room.
The sunshine that never glanced that way in the cold
started creeping slowly through the doorway.
The first sign of gold
would set off a shriek from little Mona.
She would run down the stairs in delight
to clutch at mother's skirt.
And she didn't need to say a word,
mother knew what she was excited about.
A tear would roll down her cheek
as she hurriedly offered a prayer.
Within a day or five
we knew we'd change
the way we laughed and cried.
We would lead a different life
through thunderstorms
and the humid nights.
For it was the season
when father came home
after a tiring winter night.
For it was the season
we'd sing of hope
and father not returning to fight.
Little Mona would be the first
father scooped up in his arms,
as she hurtled out of the door
when his car pulled up by the ferns.
Mother would cry silently
humming a little hymn of gratitude.
A hug and a smile was all they shared
after six months of solitude.
And sooner than enough
mother would be smiling again,
the bubble of fright in her heart
would deflate to almost nothing.
But with the nearing of the cold
the bubble would come alive again
silently tearing through her soul
making her wonder who was to blame.
But she was brave and her smile she faked
as screams and canons beat on her eardrums.
We said nothing but Mona cried her eyes red
knowing no reason behind the hymns her mother hummed.
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