REMINISCENCES - Appy

This poem is dedicated to my “little” sister, and I wrote this remembering an incident in our childhood-an incident on a hot summer afternoon. 
That's all I can say to describe this poem; read it and judge it for yourself.

Little girl-
You came and tugged at my hand,
Whispering, “The pickled mangoes”.

Grandma's pickled mangoes.
Stolen and relished
On a hot summer afternoon
While the whole world dozed,
too tired to stay awake in the heat;
Even the crows were silent-
Maybe they had parched throats...
And the two of us in the kitchen-
Grinning guiltily,
sweating in the heat- but enjoying all the same.
Who cared
that Grandma would ask:
“Where did the pickle go?”

Little girl-
So innocent and carefree-
I have searched for you everywhere.
But time has a way of swallowing up things
And I lost you.
Now a grown woman 
speaks of paychecks, not pickles.

This post was the 2nd Runner-up in the "Summer Heat" Contest, held in June 2009.